History Revolvo Ipsum
by HeavenSerenata
Summary: AU. 2078. History is repeating itself. Sauron is back.
1. Chapter 1: Part 1

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Chapter 1: The Kidnapping of Emily Elias**

**May 18****th****, 1967**

It was the Sunday before semester began after spring break, and many kids were spending it with their friends in vain attempts at forgetting what the morning would bring, or else convincing themselves that the headache wouldn't be terribly unbearable in the morning.

As for the cloaked figure weaving in and out of the shadows and through the dark alleyways of upstate New York streets, the urgency was quite in league with the same magnitude as the freedom seeking teenagers she had happened to pass once or twice on her journey to that godforsaken diner.

The cloaked figure rounded the corner, almost stepping on a drunken man passed out on the floor in the process. Giving an annoyed hiss, the figure hiked up its cloak and ran across the dingy street through the gathering rain only stopping once she had gotten to that 'waste of space' of a diner as the kids would say these days. She glanced up at the neon letters that were supposed to spell out 'Elle's Diner' except the two l's in Elle had busted out and there was no r in Diner.

In truth the diner made rats looks clean and made her skin crawl, but the cloaked figure heaved a sigh; this was where she was to meet him, so be it. She stood before the diner's entrance, willing Eru to not allow her the misfortune of picking up a virus in the blasted hovel. Even new advances in medicine probably couldn't save her life for whatever she could contract in that place.

Her chest rose and fell three times before she raised a gloved hand and pushed open the creaky wooden door, keeping her head low and her cloak high; the musty smell of the diner invading her unwilling nostrils.

Sitting down in one of the worn booths, she looked around the diner, only to see that it was completely empty save for another drunk bastard muttering to himself in one of the booths behind her, and a man slumped over his table in an obvious drunken stupor in the booth in front of her. Had there been any waitress, she did not know, but if there was, she wasn't there now and that suited the cloaked figure perfectly. It would save the human the chance at getting her head verbally 'bitten off' another slang piece she thanked that ages youth for.

Whoever owned the diner was either in a back room, or long gone, and the figure repressed a smile; she didn't blame him in the least. The owner could come and go without worrying about looters. Because really, who in their right mind came to steal from this diner? The cash register probably had cobwebs in it, and the only people willing to come in here were the drunk, the idiotic, or the mentally impaired.

Unless of course, you were the man coming through the doorway right at this moment, the bell above the door giving a shrill ding as he stepped over the threshold, shaking the rain out of his sodden hair throwing glances about obviously looking for someone.

The cloaked figure watched as his gaze slid over the tow drunks before it stopped on her, a moment of pure silence issued in which he watched her with something akin to reluctance. Oh, she was sure enough he liked her as a person, it was just whenever they saw each other she had horrible news. Understandable as it was, people were weary when they got a call from her. Something she swore was a curse bestowed upon her.

The man was dressed in neutral colours, his face posed with anxiety, a slight dusting of stubble upon his face, his hair falling to his shoulders in dishevelled yet beautiful locks. She noted that his eyes, though still young and mesmerising, held the depth of struggle throughout ages.

At last he spotted the cloaked figure sitting at one o the booth twirling a finger around the rim of a steaming hot cup of what he assumed to be coffee that he was sure hadn't been there yet ten seconds before. He made his way over to her, his stance defensive, his steps hesitant; stopping before her and sliding into the other side of the booth. He looked at her closely, tilting his head slightly as he watched her.

"It is you?" He asked, his voice bare apart from a small hint of distrust.

"If you're asking if it is I, the oracle of Gispelio, daughter of high kings and queens, then yes I am- opposed to being a nazgul in disguise or one of Sauron's disillusioned followers." She replied, a smirk in her voice, though her face was in shadow, and no features visible even to his quick eyes.

The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking around nervously.

"Have no fear son of Gilraen; no one is here who opposes us." She said simply, not even glancing up to note the drunken men in front and behind her. The man nodded almost unknowingly to himself, and waited, wondering if he should ask or if she would talk first. She was still trailing the small white coffee cup's rim with a delicately gloved finger, and it was some minutes before she spoke aga8in.

"You're late." She said at last, a smile in her voice. "Three years late to be precise." The man before her visibly blanched. By Eru that was the date he was told, how could he have been late? Before he could say as much, she cut him off smoothly. "I jest, I jest, dear sir." She said, a small chuckle following her words.

"Right, yes well…Yes…" He said softly. These meetings weren't easy for him, every time she brought bad news, and the inevitability meaning was that Sauron had found a way back- that he had found a loophole through the fabrics of time. And in this case, it seemed to be no different. It was only a matter of time, where and when and who. Of course who, because Sauron would come back in a different form each time, a different man, woman, child; each having to be stopped. It was a constant battle, although the man sensed that this time, although the same as other times was different somehow. Whether it was the static charged air, or the poise of the cloaked figures back as if set in urgency. Yes, this time was different, but he knew not why.

The cloaked figure drew in a breath, raising her head and the man got s sense that she was looking straight at him, though he could not know for sure as her face with shrouded. "One hundred a twelve years from now, when you and I are born again, on this specific day, Sauron will rear his godforsaken head again." She spat his name as if a curse, and refrained from picking up the salt shaker and throwing it over her right shoulder for good luck. "He will appear as a man, a very powerful and rich man, yet I know not what it is he will do." A hint of resentment in her voice at not having gotten all the facts.

"He will have two daughters of elven descent. Twins. Alike in blood and looks. But different in personalities. Do not trust one of them for she is her fathers daughter, yet the other one is a thinker." She sighed and hug her head, the man watched her with growing anxiety, "I do not know the names, for that you will have to observe to know which is which." She looked up once more, shaking her head as is coming up from a dream "On this night, in one hundred and twelve years, you must grab the twin that is closest to her father. And take her to Valinor, there he will not reach her and it is her he needs to complete his task."

The man physically blanched at that one "Valinor?" He asked incredulously, "The home of the elves? But I cannot pass through its gates." He said his voice filled with sadness but no regret, understanding the choice him and his fair wife made long ago.

"Yes, yes well, the twins will help you, as will Glorfindel." She said a small smile in her voice once more. "That is all I can tell you for now, I know not any more than I know now. But drink your tea my dear boy, you'll need your strength." She said a motherly tone in her voice.

"But I have no…" He began, and started as he looked down to find a steaming cup of, yes tea. A ghost of a smile fitted into his features, "I shall never get used to that." He said, amusement sparking in his eyes.

She laughed, a gentle sea breeze instead of the hoarse laugh of women of that time, "…This time is different." She stated, her tone serious, betraying no laughter from moments before, "He is stronger, more calculating. And he has help from various sources. These children he will have…They will not be normal. He will do…Terrible things to them. And I pity them for having to go through it." She said with sadness in her voice.

The man blinked, confused, "But how can you feel saddened for them dear woman? For aren't they the one's who will help him gain power?" He asked.

She sighed once more, ages conveyed within her breathes, "Yes, they will, but I fear so they will do this unwillingly."

The man nodded, although still not convinced as he brought the cup to his lips, sipping a little hesitantly. A warmth spilled through his veins, his nerves settled and his heart calmed. He grinned, "It has been a long time and many re-births since I have tasted Miruvor." He paused as if remembering something, "How in _Arda_ did you get your hands on this?" He laughed.

She laughed once more, her shoulders shaking, "My love, there are some things a woman has to keep secret." He grinned at her once more drinking the Miruvor with renewed vigour.

She watched him with affection, slowly getting up from her seat. He looked up with startled eyes, "But surely you will sit with me and finish you tea, as well?" He asked a little hopefully. Their meetings were always brief, never seeing each other for more than an hour at a time. Some meetings being as far between as spanning seven ages.

"What tea?" She asked, mischief coursing through her words. She was already walking towards the door as the man looked towards her side of the table. There was no cup, and no sign that there ever had been a cup. He shook his head, amusement in his eyes as he looked back at her stepping through the doorway.

"Farewell oracle." He said softly, knowing she would hear.

"Farewell Estel, my loved one." She replied sorrow evident in her voice.

**May 18****th**** 2078**

Emily Elias was a first grade know it all and a second grade over achiever. It was the first day of semester and she was already on her way to school in the wee hours of seven-thirty am. She had stayed at a friends house the night before in a bid to be a normal teenager for once, and not herself which was a geek apparently according to her sister Sarah.

It wasn't that she disliked her friend Dana's house, it was just that Dana liked to sleep in and get into school within the nick of time, and being Emily, she liked to be early and have enough time to sit and read a chapter or two before the bell rang in the library. It wasn't that she was a geek in all senses; she guessed that she dressed 'cool' enough, and she knew all the slang terms. It was just that most of the time she didn't feel comfortable wearing the 'cool' clothes or using the 'cool' terms.

Her sister Sarah was another question entirely. Sarah was the epitome of suave. She had the looks, she had the bad girl personality and she had the boys. She even had the better name. Sarah raised the question of innocence but with something within. Emily resonated 'wet drip'. It wasn't that Emily was jealous, or even bitter. She had come to these conclusions long ago, and as she walked up the stone steps of St. Vincent Preparatory Private High School on the upper east side of New York, she couldn't help but mull over these things.

There was hardly anyone there, school wasn't top start for another forty five minutes, so she had some time on her hands to read a bit if she chose to. She walked to her locker, saying hello to a few members of staff and stopping to chat to the janitor. Because really, that was the type of person she was. The type to talk to janitor's instead of her own friends. Clearly, something had gone wrong.

Reaching her locker, she shoved her overnight bag into her locker which contained three sets of underwear(because you can never leave things to chance and you never know) three boxes of tampons (just in case) her laptop and two chargers (because anything could happen to the first one) her phone, and two spare phones (again, you could never know what could happen) and three changes of clothes (just in case something spilled on her clothes). It also had three sets of pyjamas, two toothbrushes, four tubes of toothpaste, contacts lenses for the abundance of about three months and last but not least some dental floss.

Some would say she was crazy, others that she had a sever case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but she would just say she packed 'just in case'. In truth the only phrase that seemed to come out of her mouth these days was 'just in case'. Oh and the words 'I don't have OCD' that soon follow. Looking around at the hallway as she made her way to the library, she noted the cream walls and grey lockers, both only breaking with a door to a classroom appeared.

It took her all but a few minutes to get to the library and she pushed open the door quietly, tip toeing in as not to make her presence known. To be known was the defeat the point of a library in the sense that it meant seclusion. As Emily made her way to the bookshelf she knew so well- the science fiction section- a book to her left caught her eye and she veered off in that direction, back towards the dark recesses of the oldest books in the library.

St. Vincent's Prep was an old school, having been founded in the early 1800's, and was used as a holding ground for books to be moved on to the Library of Congress. Although some of the books never made it to the famous library and stayed where they were in the halls of St. Vincent's. And that was where Emily came in, reading anything she could get her hands on.

Although the book she found in the dark corners of the backmost shelves was a little out of the norm. The cover seemed to be made of gold. And when she plucked it form its shelf, it certainly felt that heavy. The cover was inlaid with gems of green and blue, giving her the sense of forests. Its title was in a language she didn't recognise but as soon as the incomprehension set in, the words 'Eleven recipe book for his high master Lord Elrond' came to mind.

She was so shocked at that though that she almost dropped the book, catching it between her fingers at the last moment. She took a deep breath, those words were obviously the work of my imagination, she thought to herself; I mean, Lord Elrond? What kind of whack name was that? She shook her head; obviously, she was spending too much time alone and not enough time within the company of other human beings. And those human beings did not contain fictional characters that she read in books.

She put the book back rather hurriedly, rushing over to the more lighted part of the library to pick out a Stephen king novel that she was likely to have read before. Finding a particularly comfy chair, she sat down intending to read until the bell rang for homeroom.

Emily read for a while, although not until homeroom as one of her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling the device out of her pocket, the holographic miniature person now used for caller ID showed it was her mother, although what her mother would want at-she checked her watch- five past eight in the morning escaped her.

"Accept." She murmured to the phone and almost instantly her mothers voice was blaring down the phone, at an alarming pitch and rate.

"Emily? Emily? Can you hear me? Oh how does this blasted thing work? Emily?" Emily shook her head, her mother grew up around this technology, why she could not use it was a mystery to her.

Emily sighed, "Yes mom, I'm here I'm here. What is it that's so urgent?" She asked, getting up to put the book back on the shelf and making her way to the door of the library, she was sure the bell would ring in about ten minutes, and although her homeroom was only five minutes away, it did nothing but good for the soul to be early.

Her mother was silent for a moment, "Well its about Sarah…" Emily almost groaned, it seemed she never got a phone call just for her. The person almost always asked for Sarah, or had a hidden agenda to getting to Sarah in most guys cases'.

"What did she do this time, mom?" She asked exasperatedly, reaching her homeroom and standing outside the door as two teenaged girls a little younger than her walked out.

Her mother coughed, almost unnoticeably, "Well really she hasn't done anything…It's about that art show I was supposed to take you to today…" Her mother began. Emily's heart sank, she knew what was coming next- she _knew_ it and she didn't want to hear it.

Obviously her mother was oblivious to her discomfort because she ploughed on anyway, "I'm going to have to skip it honey. You see, Sarah has this thing tonight- Something about a graffiti contest she entered…And well you know how busy dad gets…And him and Sarah are leaving tonight for that business trip he's taking her on…" Emily walked into her homeroom almost blind, she felt sick to her stomach and more than a little angry. This always happened, she always came first. No matter what Emily did, no matter how amazing her grades were –so amazing she was in the top three of the school- no matter how much she tried to be the 'better daughter'. It didn't matter, because she always came first.

Normally Emily felt no bitterness towards her sister, but at times like these it was enough to wish she wasn't a twin. It just made her so mad…Unfortunately her mother was still talking, and she didn't want to seem rude so she tried to listen even though it seemed to stab her stomach every time she did. "Honey listen I'm sorry…Its just I won't see her for six months…And I thought it appropriate I spend at least one night with her…I hope you don't mind baby girl, just this once yeah?" Her mother asked hopefully, like she did every time. "You understand right?"

It was always 'just this once' or 'this won't happen again' or 'you mean as much to me as she does to me'. All complete and utter bullshit. She was the better twin if she should be so bold, but she wasn't better loved and by God it _hurt_ her to admit that. Emily took a deep breath, "Yeah mom...I understand you. We'll just hang another time." Except this art show only occurs once every ten years; but she left that part out. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" And cutting off her mother's response she hung up the phone, fighting the urge to cry, scream or flip some table's over- whichever emotion came first, really.

She settled instead for laying her head on the table instead, letting her bag drop to the floor by her feet. It wasn't even like Sarah didn't try and include Emily, because she did, all the time. But Sarah will be Sarah and what she did couldn't even be called 'helping'- more '_embarrassing_' in most cases. Especially when it included any guy Emily liked. It seemed Emily couldn't keep a secret from Sarah, although Sarah kept many. And whatever guy Emily liked, Sarah would try and set them up…With disastrous consequences.

It seemed that although Emily and Sarah were identical twins in the case that they looked so alike friends, teachers and often their own parents at times got them mixed up, guys just didn't seem to want Emily. Sure enough they wanted to be friends, but never anything more. The thought flummoxed Emily, for surely she had the same voice and body as her sister, the same guys who thought Sarah hot should think Emily hot. But, obviously not, because although Emily was seventeen, she had yet to acquire a boyfriend for more than three weeks.

The bell rang suddenly, pulling Emily out of her thoughts, just as Dana walked in and smiled at her. Dana was so used to falling asleep with Emily and finding her gone in the mornings that it just didn't faze her anymore. Dana was what you might call an 'All American Girl'. With her blond hair and blue eyes, she sure was a beauty. As she came to sit at the desk next to Emily, the door swung open and the one and only miss 'bad-girl-cheerleader-head-of-the-school-supreme-overlord' walked in- the legend herself; Sarah Elias.

And really, Emily's day just went downhill from there on in.

First the guy she liked started to flirt with her until she pointed out that it was Emily and not Sarah, then he had gone bright pink and muttered something about being sorry and needing to check on the birds outside. Then she slipped in the cafeteria and her food went flying onto the nearest cute guy, not to mention the nearest teacher. And then to make matters worse she slipped up in science class and got three answers wrong and said 'sperm point' instead of 'spurn point' in her geography lesson. Those events alone would have sent Emily packing with a box of tissues if Sarah hadn't cornered her on the way to the last period of the day.

Emily had had Art and Sarah world history, but obviously, Sarah had other plans and cornered her twin sister as she had walked with Dana. For her part, sensing sister trouble, Dana had promised to wait for Emily outside of their Art room and had left the twins to it, having been on the brunt end of one of their fights before.

Sarah Elias was the embodiment of beauty, she had blonde hair that shone true to the sun, and a set of blue green eyes that entranced boys and held them in her master spider's web. She was tall, slim and had a set of boobs to die for. Emily looked exactly the same, except maybe her boobs weren't so magnificent, and maybe her eyes not quite so gleaming, her stance not so demanding for power; her hair not so sun stealing.

"Emily…" Sarah trailed off; using that tone of voice Emily knew to mean one thing: A favour. And most likely a favour Emily wouldn't do without protest.

Emily threw her eyes skyward, anticipating the worst, "What do you want now, Sarah?" She asked, if not a little angry. But it was hard to stay angry at Sarah when she was looking up at you underneath made up eyes and skin so pure it hurt to look at.

"What? Can't a sister say hey to a sister without getting ridiculed?" She asked defensively, her eyes disguisedly hurt.

"No." Emily muttered, "They can't, not if they're named Sarah Elias anyway." She huffed a sigh, "What do you want? Spit it out." She said in a no nonsense voice.

Sarah dropped all pretences and regarded her sister coolly, she loved Emily, truly she did, but sometimes she just wasn't…cool. She never did anything to be cool, and then she always complained that guys didn't like her. Sarah always just said, well if you can't walk the walk…Which was probably a little harsh seeing as Emily was her twin sister, but if she didn't say it, who would? "I need you to switch classes with me." She said simply, waiting for the 'no', already forming an argument in her mind or why she should.

Emily visibly spluttered, "Switch places with you?" She almost shouted, lowering her voice to a dangerous hiss when a teacher went past, "Do you know how much trouble we could get in?"

Sarah expected this, "Emmy, mom and dad can't even tell us apart without their morning coffee, how is Mr. Glorfindel supposed to?" She asked, naming her World History class teacher.

Emily sighed, she had no argument and this day was already going to the dogs, "Why don't you want to go to world history?" She asked exasperatedly.

"Because I wanna be with Jeff. And he's in your Art class not my World History class." Sarah said as If it were the most obvious thing in the goddamn world. But that was a lie. Sarah knew it was a lie but somehow she couldn't bring herself to say the _real_ reason. And that was that her dad had called her that morning and told her specifically not to go to that class. And, rather than skip it and get into trouble and risk having to explain her father's words which baffled her, a switch had been all she could think of.

"For god sake Sarah, is that all you fucking think about?" Emily was having a hard time keeping her voice down, and Sarah raised a delicately shaped eyebrow at her words. "You know what, Sarah? Do whatever the fuck you want. Yeah, I'll take your place in World History, and yeah, you can go out with mom tonight. And yeah, you can go on a six month business trip with dad that the school fucking _approved_. Just do whatever you want, because I don't give a shit anymore." Some students had begun to stop and stare as Emily shouted at her sister.

The twins were known to have their disagreements, but it was general knowledge that they were pretty tight and if you messed with one, the other would kick your arse. But _this_? This was like the fight of the century, this was major gossip and half of the girls were physically itching to get back to their respective classes and spread the 'goss'.

"Emily what are you-" Sarah began, her eyes half filled with fury and half filled with hurt, but Emily couldn't care less, she had put up with her crap for seventeen years and _surely_ she was allowed a break point.

"Save it." Emily murmured, turning on her heal to make her way to Sarah's World History class, "Have a great time with dad." And with that, she was striding towards the other side of the school, leaving a very confused and very angry Sarah in her wake.

* * *

So what did you guys think? I had to split this chapter in two because the total words were like 8,370 or something completely ridiculous like that. And to save your eyes, I cut it down (:

My only thing is that I ask you to please review, I want to know if I should continue with this, or if I'm wasting my time and any feed back is severely appreciated.

Thank you so much for reading (:

Kira x

- I am completely and utterly flummoxed. I got a fair bit of reception to this story yet not one review? Surely if you clicked on you, you wanted to read it, right? Well. Thankyou for reading, but I'd appreciate it if you would review too.

I almost always review a story and it would be lovely for someone to do the same, thankyou.


	2. Chapter 1: Part 2

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

Hey, I forgot to mention last time that I own completely nothing, and the works and places mentioned belong to JRR Tolkien the great mind that he is (: Oh, but I do own Emily and Sarah

also, thanks so much and I mean that with no sarcasm, I was looking at my stats and near enough 30 people read the first chapter and tbh that was enough for me to post a second chapter aha

**Chapter 1 Part 2: The Kidnapping of Emily Elias**

Emily was late for the World History class, and Mr. Glorfindel gave her a grilling for it. Although it wasn't so much a grilling rather than he told her off a bit while she practically drooled at his gorgeousness. With long blonde hair tied In a lose ponytail, fresh leaf green eyes and a body any man would _die_ for, Mr. Glorfindel, though he had a weird name, was an absolute _babe_.

"Sorry sir." She murmured quietly faltering for a minute as she tried to locate Sarah's seat without looking too suspicious.

There came an annoyed exhale from behind her, "I trust you have not forgotten where you sit, Miss Elias?" Mr Glorfindel's voice though slightly accented sent shivers down her back. "Because I'm sure Mr. Walters blatant hand gestures weren't any indication as to where you should sit."

"Erm…Yeah." Was all Emily could reply, he knows, was all she could think- He fucking _knows-_ How on earth does he know? But as she went to sit down she looked back at him, and he was looking at her with impassive eyes. Normally when he saw her, he could smile and ask her about which books she had read, and when she switched with Sarah a couple months before, he hadn't noticed either. So really, it looked like Emily was in the clear.

Sitting down beside Stephen Walters, their year's resident 'all round cute helpful lapdog type guy', she heaved a groan of relief. He leaned over in his seat; his dull blue eyes searching for her own while his brown hair fell into his eyes. "Emily?" He whispered sceptically, almost low enough that she had to strain her ears to hear it.

She nodded, a little subdued and tired after her shouting match with her sister, for which she felt disgustingly about. She would have to apologise later for that; but for now, World History.

Stephen just nodded knowingly, sitting back in his chair to listen to whatever it was Mr. Glorfindel was saying. Emily had taken this class last year as an advanced programme, as did Sarah so really, there was no need for her to take it again this year, apart from the fact that it would be an easy grade and you could ogle the eye candy all lesson and still get an answer right.

"Elves!" Mr. Glorfindel exclaimed excitedly, "What can you tell me about Elves? Come on, we're doing folk lore this lesson and I want you to tell me everything you know about Elves."

There was silence for a minute or so, but Mr. Glorfindel's expression didn't fall, his eyes never lost its gleam, and Emily had to resist from raising her hand first. Sarah never raised her hand first and for the next hour and a half, Emily had to be Sarah.

Marissa Del Kardo, a not so bright girl in Emily's homeroom, lifted a fake nail studded hand into the air. What she lacked in brains she made up for in looks, and from the rumours she heard, Emily was sure she made up _pretty_ well. "Um, pointy ears?" She asked, blinking up at Mr. G in a way that Emily thought made her look spectacularly like a fish gaping for air although she was sure Marissa did it to try and 'entice' the poor man.

Mr. Glorfindel looked at her for a moment, his expression blank, but Emily got the feeling he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Marissa, pointy ears. Their 'pointy ears'" He made inverted coma's with his hands making Marissa blush, "Were a classical feature that set them apart from the humans." He nodded, his words had come out kind of slow, and Emily got the feeling he was mocking Marissa in a way, although from the rapt expression on Marissa's face, she was _loving_ it.

Another girl whose name Emily did not know raised her hand, she was sitting forward in her seat, her chest pushed out to emphasise her breasts and the fact that her top was in fact, very low. "They were very in touch with nature." She said, her voice sultry and Emily had to resist the urge to gag. Looking up at Mr. G, his expression was nonchalant and he hadn't batted an eyelid at her blatant attempts to seduce him. Emily had to give him props, harder men than he would have probably fallen for it. "Some say they had special magical powers." She finished with a giggle that was supposed to make her seem adorable or cute. Emily thought it made her seem retarded. But you know, what did she know about enticing guys? All her attempts had completely failed over the years.

Mr. G nodded, "Yes, but I wouldn't call them 'magical powers' Miss. Hyras, just that they had an in-depth connection with the earth and everything to do with it." He looked around the class once more, seeming to skip Emily all together for which she was grateful. But it appeared that Mr. G didn't have to look at you to call upon you for an answer, something Emily noted to remember.

"Sarah Elias! Come on speak to the class, and tell us something about the Elves." Mr. Glorfindel exclaimed, looking at her once more with a gleam in his eyes. Although considering he thought she was Sarah, got her very confused indeed.

Emily breathed in once, noting that everyone had shifted around in their seats to look at her, obviously even Kelly Summers- Sarah's best friend- couldn't tell the difference between them, or notice the fact that Sarah had switched clothes with her sister; if the way she was smiling at her was any indication. Kelly seemed to hate Emily, and for no reason other than the fact that Emily had once told her that if she kept bleaching her hair, it would all fall out and she would be bald by the time she was twenty five. Which, in truth, she had meant in earnest and only meant to be a friendly tip; obviously 'friendly tips' should just be kept to the 'friendly tippers'. "Erm. In folk lore in Britain, elves were cunning, smart and quick." She began, "And not a force to be reckoned with as they would trick you into singing till your throat was raw or playing till you couldn't stand."

Was it just her or did a flash of annoyance go through Mr. Glorfindel's eyes at her words? She cleared her throat, wondering why no one in the class looked at _her_ that way when she gave an answer in class. Probably because she had no people skills whatsoever and always made herself out to look like a right pillock. Possibly. "Some speculations say they never existed, some say they did but retreated underground." Emily sat back in her seat, feeling she had said enough for Sarah's standards.

"Good Sarah, good." His eyes lingered on her a moment and she felt vaguely like a bug under a microscope. "Now, has anyone read the series of The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien?" He asked casually. A couple kids put their hands up and he nodded his head, throwing a questioning glance at Emily. Crap, she thought, has Sarah read them? She almost scoffed out loud, course not, Sarah doesn't read. She barely even _skim_ reads over magazines.

Mr. G walked to the board and wrote a name Emily was _sure_ she had seen somewhere else. 'Rivendell' was scrawled in his beautiful handwriting across the active computer screen. "Rivendell was, according to Mr. Tolkien, the Elves almost 'home base' in middle earth some six thousand years ago. According to him the Elves were a peaceful people who were kind and just." Again, was it her imagination or did Mr. G's gaze slip to her in an almost 'I told you so' gesture. "There were other homes for the elves such as in Lorien home of Celeborn and the fair Galadriel; and Mirkwood- the home of the Silvan Elves. But Rivendell was their home spot. And as for Sarah's speculations that they still exist here according to The Lord of the Rings, it's highly possible. At the end of the series most of the Elves sailed west to Valinor, the elves final resting ground. Although it was barred to mortals other than Frodo and Bilbo, oh and Gimli of Gloin." Okay, now Emily _definitely_ hadn't imaged the proud gleam in his eyes just then.

"Most but not all." He said, "Most of the Elves sailed West, feeling that middle earth no loner needed them, but, some elves including the Elf King Lord Elrond's own sons stayed on earth and didn't sail." Emily almost flipped her desk over in shock, earning a couple confused glances from people in the class. Lord Elrond? Lord _Elrond_? You've got to be kidding me, she thought. Okay, she thought calmly while she righted her desk properly, basically, I heard someone talking about the books and Lord Elrond came up. That's all, reassured herself, that is _all_. "Yes, some scholars and fanatics say that his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir stayed behind and still reside on earth today." Mr. G said, oblivious to Emily's discomfort, although at his words Emily was sure she thought some of the girls in the front row might faint.

"Famously Lord Elrond prophesised this very year saying that 'all that you know and think are about to be changed and morphed'." Mr. G was looking directly at her, and she could feel her cheeks flush and she stared back at him, a hint of fear in her heart. Why was he staring at her like that? She was pretty sure that Lord Elrond had never said that, if over hearing the Lord of the Rings geeks talking animatedly about him the other week was anything to go by. So why was he lying to the class? Was it a test? Or was it a message to Emily? Who in turn was posing as her twin sister Sarah. Dear _God_ what in the world had Sarah gotten herself into?

Just then, the bell rang, and it took everything Emily had not to cover her ears and cower under her desk for fear of an imminent attack. She waited until the class filed out, murmuring to Kelly that she'd see her outside, silently praying that Sarah would get there first and she wouldn't have to hold up the façade any longer.

The class had emptied out eventually, and soon it was just her and Mr. Glorfindel who seemed to be studiously ignoring her. Emily walked up to his desk and tapped it twice to get his attention. He looked up to her from his seated position and looked back down quickly. Emily was momentarily winded by how absolutely beautiful this man was. For god sake, she thought wildly, why is he a teacher and not on the cover of vogue?

"Yes, Sarah?" He asked, not even bothering to look up from the papers he was sorting. And it took a while for Emily to even form words before she could ask her question.

"Uhm…Well you see the thing is sir, that I um, well it's just that-" He cut her off and with a hand gesture.

"Sarah please spit whatever you want to say out before the world comes to an end." He said in a bored voice, and once again she got the feeling that there was something between Sarah and Mr. G, just, that she didn't know what.

"Well it's just that when you quoted that Lord Elrond guy," She ventured, unsure if she was about to begin walking on eggshells or not, "Well its just that you seemed to look straight at me when you said it and I was just wondering if…" She trailed off hesitantly. By the look of his expression, he had no idea what she was talking about and she obviously sounded half mad. _Greaatttt_, she thought.

"I assure you miss Elias, I have no idea what you are talking about." He said, standing up to his full height of god knows what. He was over fix foot three that was for sure. He stepped around the desk and placed a hand on her back to guide her to the door, "Now if you would kindly leave, I have some grading to do." He stated simply.

Emily was flabbergasted. How rude of him to even try and get rid of her! "Excuse me sir, but what exactly are you- Well this is just _so_ nice of you." She muttered when he didn't stop and pulled open the door to a strangely deserted hallway, shoving her past the threshold. She stumbled out of the doorway and then spun around, adjusting her bag as she glared at his back and he turned around and retreated back into the room. "So what? Are you just gunna deny you didn't stare at me for about ten seconds when you said that everything was going to change and morph and whatever?"

"I'm not denying anything," He said calmly as he walked back around his desk to sit down, "Oh and Sarah?" He asked, picked out a particular piece of paper from his small pile, half turning around to face her once more.

"Yeah sir?" She asked, annoyed. This had just served to tell her that her people skills needed to improve. This was just terrific wasn't it? It had been a horrible day and god Mr. G had turned into such an unpleasant man in the matter of a week and a half from when she had last seen him as herself. Everything had really just gone to the flipping dogs, and they had their teeth in it now.

"Everything _is_ about to change." He said, and before Emily could even start to gasp, his door swung shut; leaving her in a stunned silence.

Crap, crap, _crap_. She thought over and over again. There hadn't even been any godforsaken _wind_ to close the door. This was too freaky. This was too _weird_. And God her head hurt. This day had been complete and utter crap and she couldn't take it anymore. God forbid she actually understood what the hell Mr. Glorfindel had been saying to her. Did she even _want_ to understand? _Or do you already know_? Came a voice from her head. Oh God. Oh _God_. And with that panicked thought she hurried to her locker to pick up her overnight bag and practically ran out of the school doors, down the stone steps and in a split decision decided to go to the art exhibition by herself. Screw it if her mother or Sarah was going to ruin it for her.

It took her about twenty minutes to walk to the art exhibition, and in those twenty minutes she found time to call her sister and apologise. Sarah had said it was alright and that she wasn't mad. The twins had ended the conversation by saying they loved one another and would miss each other over the six month business trip Sarah was going on. The conversation alone had been enough to erase any of Mr. Glorfindel's words and the 'freaky door incident', as she had filed it away in her mind as.

The art show had been amazing, the modern art expo from London, England had been to die for and it was a wonder the paintings were only ever moved here once every ten years. It was completely worth her coming home at this late hour too, and she thought her day would _finally_ be improving. But fate, it would look, had one more trick up her crafty sleeves. She was rounding the corner cutting through an alleyway as a short cut on her way home, finding the act of walking much better than taking the bus when she saw three kids from her school standing in the shadows as if waiting for her. They were the 'fanatics' of the school- Or the Lord of the Rings, fanatics anyways. They were always saying something in some elf language, and they were _forever_ singing praises of Frodo. But today seemed different, their eyes were completely black, but Emily put that down to weird contact lenses. Although their faces seemed gnarled somehow, and forever the optimist, Emily put that down to the lighting. But when they opened their mouths…Well she couldn't exactly put that down to sound frequencies could she?

Nevertheless, the moment she caught sight of them, her heart beat picked up and her palms were suddenly hot, starting to sweat and she could feel her forehead become clammy. "Sauron shall come again!" They hissed, one of their mouths moving but it seemed like all three of them were talking, "He walks the earth once more, and _you_, you shall _die_." Their words had frozen her in fear, she had no idea who this 'Sauron' person was, or why he would ever want to 'walk the earth once more'. But their threat of her death date had her rooted to the spot.

They were advancing upon her now, and their faces in the light from a lamp weren't anything like their normal faces, yes they were wearing normal clothes…but their faces were _horrible_, grotesque disgusting warped and _gnarled_ to the point that it almost made her want to be sick. They were getting closer with every step and the stench of dead and _rotting_ things followed them, making her gag and almost drop her bags.

"Oh my…Stop, just please _stop_. I haven't done any…This isn't- _please_ stop." She pleaded in nothing but a whisper. Wow, she thought almost calmly, so much for being brave in the face of danger.

One of them cackled and the hair at the back of her neck stood up on end at the sound of it, and she fought the rising bile that rose in her throat as one of them raised a stumped hand to her face to touch her cheek. The scream died in her throat and she felt as if she were going to faint as the stubbly brittle skin came into contact with her own. "Look at her, so scared that she is of us, of Sauron's followers." One of them breathed, its breath like death and decay; the _dying_.

"Your fate in this plot is inevitable, you will die and he will rise!" The end of the sentence was a cry, a horrible guttural war cry that spurred something within her and set her dead feat in motion. She went running further into the alley, which in hindsight probably wasn't the best of ideas.

The alley only deepened in darkness the further she got away from the street lamp, and the next one's illumination would take her at least thirty seconds to run to. As an almost detached observation, it was like one of those never-ending dreams. When you can hear the things in the darkness following you, but no matter how fast you ran, you got no closer to escaping. And in truth, she could hear the pounding footsteps of those _things_ behind as they followed after her in earnest, yet she got no closer to the next lamp post and the main road beyond.

Abruptly, something changed, and maybe it was that the moon shone a little brighter, or there wasn't so much fear in her heart, or that her legs seemed to move a little faster and bring her closer to the main road. And the cars she could see so clearly in front of her yet were so out of her reach. Whatever it was, the loud roar she heard a second later didn't half scare her as it may had only a few fear filled moments before.

Her steps slowed, and she spun around in time to see the gleam of silver slice the air with an audible whoosh, that had her heart speeding right back up. But once again, she seemed to be rooted to the spot unable to move for the life of her as she watched the harrowing events unfold in front of her.

Two men, well she assumed they were men, had come out of nowhere dressed in tunics and chain mail, their faces were in shadow, but what glimpses Emily did get were of astounding beauty twisted in such fury that it almost hurt Emily's eyes to look at them. One by one their blades mowed down the hissing things that had chased after her and she can't have said she was sad to see them killed.

The last one had looked up at her, its eye sockets bloodied and vacant where one of the silver blades had gotten it, its gouged out eyes searching for her in the dark in a way that made Emily turn her head and spew up whatever she had eaten for lunch right next to her. She looked back at the thing, wiping at her mouth with the back of her sleeved arm, and watched as its crude mouth twisted up into a smile of misshapen proportions. "You will fall, and he will rise." It rasped out, a laugh so filled with malice following short after. Although it was cut off as one of the men plunged a blade half as tall as Emily was into its heart, if it had had one, she added as an late addition thought.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she took in the mound of cut up, body parts that had been those creatures' bodies. She retched once again, although nothing came up as she raised fearful eyes to the men in front of her. Their swords had awful black blood on them and their faces were still twisted in anger and disgust as they regarded the dead bodies beneath them- or, rather 'hunks of meat' rather than actual 'bodies'.

It was a moment before they realised she was there, and their faces softened somewhat as they took her in. For Emily's part, the thoughts: 'holy crap their gorgeous and they just saved my life! Oh god can one of them just sweep my off my feet already?' were obviously not working with her feet, which were sliding backwards and bringing her away from these sword wielding crusaders.

One of the men shook his black hair to get it out of his face as he raised a sword laden hand as if in greeting, while Emily's eyes practically bugged out of her skull. She noted with some clarity in this panicked situation that the two men looked a _hell_ of a lot alike. "Have no fear maiden, we're here to help." Emily's hand dropped from her mouth as she scoffed, 'here to help' that's what they all so bozo, she thought as she spun on her heal to run the other way, only to run straight into the chest of another man.

She stepped back, her eyesight a little off as her head spun, but she vaguely recognised Sarah's World History teacher, "Mr. Glorfindel? What are _you_ doing here?" She asked as she tried to focus on his face, goddamn his chest had been _hard_.

"Ah. Sarah forgive me, I'm so sorry." He murmured at her, looking a little sheepish as he glanced behind her to the two men who were obviously still there.

"What? What do you mean your-" Her words were cut off as a thud sounded through the alleyway, and it was only a split second before Emily registered that the thud had been something colliding with her skull. The edges of her vision had already begun to darken, and she slumped forward into the waiting arms of Mr. Glorfindel. The only thought in her head before she succumbed to unconsciousness being: hey, so he totally _didn't_ realise that I switched places with Sarah after all.

* * *

Heyyy ! If you're reading this thankyou so much for reading this far with me, I assure you it gets so much better, so hang in there with me and Emily aha

thankyou again,

Kira x


	3. Chapter 2

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

**Chapter 2: Home Is Where The Heart Is.**

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

_**Disclaimer**_: I own absolutly nothing apart from Emily and Sarah and their do good family (; Everything else belongs to JRR Tolkien and his amazing and great mind.

_**A/N**_ Thank you for the reviews (: They were really nice and made me smile, except for that review that that person left. But I, in no uncertain terms told them what I thought of them, that they obviously didn't know an adverb from a proverb. And that if Emily was a Mary-Sue then shoot me down and call me dandy because in all honesty I don't understand how someone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and no people skills can be considered a Mary-sue. Oh and according to her I wrote all my reviews myself. Which, I didn't. In all honesty, I'm pretty sure she probably wrote them. But whatever. Can't have a story without flamers these days.

Oh and to answer the reviewer 'stars' question, no Mr. Glorfindel doesn't know she's not actually Sarah (:

Thank you for reading, and about 300 people have clicked on this story which in all honesty is amazing, so thank you!

P.S. this chapter is so long, and I'm sorry for that aha but I don't want to split it in two as there isn't really any point I can split it at aha (: anyway, without further adieu…

The sun was high in the heavens by the time Emily came into any sort of state of awareness. As she began to stir she got the feeling of many little things sticking into her back, and was oddly reminded of that book 'the princess and the pea' as she was _sure_ her bed hadn't been this lumpy the last time she slept in it. Making to sit up, Emily tried to move her hands to push herself up, and that was when the sensation of both of her hands being tied and her feet being roped together, a gag placed in her mouth hit her, and all sentiments about her bed were gone from her mind.

She cracked open an eye, only to shut it with a muffled hiss of pain when the sunlight hit her eye, triggering a raging headache at the back of her head. Come to think of it, the back of her head was on _fire_. She longed to touch it and soothe it with her fingers, but every time she tried to move her hands she remembered that she was in fact, tied up like a hog with her arms in front of her and her legs tied up roughly. She was lying on her back, and whatever she was lying on –she assumed it was the floor- was damp and dew had seeped into her clothes making them stick to her.

With that fact running through Emily's head, it was then that the panic set in. Shit, _shit_, _**SHIT**_. Where the hell am I? She thought frantically, opening both eyes forgetting just how bright the sun had been and was momentarily blinded by its light as her eyes began to stream with tears, and not just from the light. She shook her head, trying to focus her eyes on anything that wasn't light, only to regret it horribly when pain shot from her head down to her spine in force.

Emily blinked once, twice, three times, and finally the light had evaded her irises long enough for her to make out where exactly she was. Looking around she could see foliage, tree trunks and directly in front of her a mound of burnt twigs that she assumed had been burnt for a fire. Looking at the floor closest to her face, she could see little twigs, small stones and wet leaves of varying shades running form green through till a golden brown. Obviously, she recognised being in a forest of some sorts. But seeing as there are no forests as such in New York City- not unless you count Central Park- she assumed she had been moved somewhere very, very far away.

Her heart sped up, beating so strikingly against her chest that she thought for sure someone would hear it and come find her. Maybe she hadn't been kidnapped, maybe this was all just some sick joke Sarah had played on her with one of her druggie friends. With thoughts of rescue racing through her mind, it was a while before she even realised she was being watched by two men with dark hair and astonishing features.

When she finally did notice them sitting on a log opposite the burned out fire pit, she gave a mangled cry and spat curses at them as the night before came back to her. She remembered the things running after her, and she had to hold back the growing sick that threatened to surge up from her stomach. And then she remembered Mr. Glorfindel saying something although what exactly he said she forgot, and finally she remembered being hit on the back of the head with something. As though her bruise had heard her it began to throb even more painfully, scolding her for having forgotten it was there. And she cursed the men before her with more vigour, even if it made the bruise hurt more, and made her wrists ache as she struggled to free them from the rope. Even as she tried to sit up and was knocked down by a wave of nausea engulfing her but she still cursed them was illegible words; her insults muffled and distorted by the gag.

She struggled up into a sitting position, the world spinning for a few minutes as her grip on consciousness threatened to slip. In trying to focus her centre of gravity, she didn't notice one of the men getting up and walking with cautious steps towards her swaying form. It was a while before everything stopped spinning, and she looked up with squinting eyes to the man standing before the sun, his head blocking out its light. It took her another slow moment to realise he was talking to her.

"Please. My lady, you must stop, you will hurt your head." He said with a slight accent, a frown on his stupidly handsome face. Oh so it wasn't enough for me to get kidnapped, Emily thought, the guys kidnapping me had to not be horrendous, but had to be amazing in looks, oh and have a potent swinging arm, if the size of the bruise she could feel was as big as she thought it might be.

"Stop?" She shouted, "What so that you can kill me?" She asked although it more than likely came out as "Rop? Haw oo nat ou ca rill e?", as she struggled to try and push herself away from him in a tangle of tied arms and heaves, her back eventually hitting the truck of a tree, its bark digging painfully into her spine- although that was probably the _least_ of her problems given the situation she was in. She pushed backwards, trying to get some leverage on her feet so she could possibly get in to a standing position, hitting her sore head repeatedly yet not caring in the least in her desperation to get away.

The man looked at her, his face guarded and his eyes showing uncertainty, he's probably wondering whether or not I'm having a fit, she thought dryly. After a while, finally realising that she wouldn't be getting to her feet anytime soon, and that the man was coming no nearer, she stopped struggling. Sitting on her backside with her arms shoved out in front of her, drying tears on her cheek. She couldn't even remember crying.

The man watched her struggles die down as she got too tired to keep them up, regarding her as she slumped down once again, her back against the trunk of an old withering oak, wincing as she hit the back of her head on a protruding piece of bark. Emily looked back at him, trying her hardest to look at least a little menacing, maybe if she thrashed around enough, or made too much trouble they'd let her go. Straight after that thought she almost scoffed, that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard, they wouldn't let her go until they got what they wanted. And knowing how well off her father was, it was probably money. Now, don't get her wrong, she wasn't stinking filthy rich that she could fill a bath with hundred dollar bills, but her father was a US diplomat, which meant that she had quite a bit- even if she sometimes didn't know what to do with it.

"Is that what you want?" She spat out with all the anger she could muster, which in reality was badly lacking. "Money?" She asked her eyes incredulous, her father liked to give to charity _a lot_, if they seriously needed money, I'm sure they could have just asked instead of going through all this trouble and bother. The man looked at her uncomprehendingly as the words she tied to convey came out more like "Ris Hat Lot ou whun?" and then, "Rorney?"

Emily gave an unladylike growl in her frustration at his confused face, his eyebrows pulled delicately down in a small frown his mouth slightly a jar. "Are you telling me you can't hear me? Or understand me?" She shook her head, "This is ridiculous; I get kidnapped by foreigners who can't speak English. Story of my life." She muttered, although thanks to the gag her words came out as: "Raw ou rellin e ou kar mear e? O runerstan e? Mis e reridulous; uh ret idnap ry origns ou kar reak lingish? Ory ouf ey ryfe."

The other man sitting on the bench, obviously the twin of the man standing before Emily, or clone considering how much they looked alike, raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a grin as he got up from his seat and made his way over to them with three long strides of his legs. "Brother, first rule in kidnapping, if you want to talk to them, untie the gag first." He laughed.

"Elrohir, I doubt this is the time nor place to be making jokes of light." His bother muttered, although pink stained his cheeks in embarrassment.

Elrohir shook his head, "Nonsense" He said, "If we do not make jokes now, we will never remember how to laugh." And with that he walked slowly up to Emily as she shook like a leaf from her position leaning up against the tree trunk. He splayed out his palms in the universal sign for peace, and Emily's fearful eyes displayed uncertainty. "We mean you no harm young maiden." He said at last, after taking in her disheveled hair, damp clothes and bound wrists which were red, raw and blistered. "If I take off the gag for you to talk and drink some water, will you promise not to scream?" He asked slowly, as if talking to a child, but in his eyes, Emily was nothing but a mere baby.

Emily's eyes flashed, and Elrohir put that down to understanding rather than what it really was: a way to escape, or at least get help. She nodded her head eagerly, trying to look as innocent as possible. As he raised his hands to her face a flash of fear passed through her suddenly as the thought crossed her mind that he could be lying as much as she was. His acute grey eyes focused on hers and his mouth quirked up in a small smile although his eyes were guarded, "Maiden I will not harm you." Unless you do something that makes me, she finished his sentence for him. As his hands reached up to take the gag off and brushed her cheek. She sniffed deeply and smelt pine trees and summer air, which even to her sounded a little doo-lally.

Both of his hands slipped behind her head, careful to avoid her bruise, to undo the gag. Pulling his hands back and taking the piece of cloth used as a makeshift gag with him. He sat back on his heels, resting his hands on his lap, satisfied that she had obeyed his ask. Getting to his feet with a smug smile on face, he turned on his heal to smile at his brother. "See Elladan? I told you she would-"

His words were cut off and drowned out by an ear splitting scream, although the voice was rough and hoarse, the screams were fear filled and seemed to echo far and wide. Elladan cursed under his breath and snatched the gag from a stunned Elrohir with a roll of his eyes as he strode over to the screaming Emily. "You were saying, brother?" He asked as he knelt down in front of Emily.

"HELP! HELP! HELP SOMEONE PLEASE HELP! THIS ISN'T A JOKE, PLEASE JUST HELP-" Elladan shoved the gag back into her mouth, quickly tying it back around her head, all of this none too gently. Her shouts were muffled, but did not stop for some while as both brothers listened to her voice grow hoarse and her mouth grow tired. Eventually, she stopped screaming and by that time the brothers had sat down in front of her, getting comfortable rather than standing for however long it took her to calm down.

"Have you finally tired?" Elladan asked his face impassive, his eyes slightly annoyed as he watched her glare up at him. She clamped her mouth shut around the gag and looked the other way through the trees. What she was searching for, Elladan did not know, but it wasn't his task to know. His task was to find the girl, Sarah Elias, and bring her to the grey ships. He knew none of her apart from not to trust her, although why this was he had no idea but he did not doubt the voice of the born again Estel who had warned him, his brother and his friend Glorfindel not ten years before. Looking at her now, he could see nothing untrustworthy, although then again, she could just be that good at faking and he was weary to let his guard down around her still.

Elrohir was clearly annoyed, his mouth was set and his eyes screamed 'I'm pissed off!', "I thought you promised me." He said at last, breaking his silence. The girl looked at him, tearing her gaze away from the thickening woods, her eyes annoyed yet still intrigued.

"You promised you wouldn't scream." Her eyes shone and something dark flashed past them quickly, faster than Elladan could work out, and faster than Elrohir could see. Her eyes back to normal; she regarded Elrohir with distrust evident in her eyes while Elladan stared intently at her, trying to detect any signs of the black flash crossing her eyes once more. It didn't. She shrugged once, turning her head once more to look back into the forest.

Elrohir glared at her turned head, getting up from his position and brushing twigs and leaves from his tunic as he did so. "The longer you keep screaming, the longer you go without food or water." He stated plainly, watching with some satisfaction as the realization occurred to the girl as she whipped her head to face him, her eyes wide. "And we won't let you starve." He stated with a shrug of his own shoulders, "So our only option would be to force feed you, which is a messy business and I'm sure you would rather not have to go through it, Sarah." He finished a smug look in his eye as he watched the shock pass through her eyes at his using her name. "Oh yes, I know your name, Miss. Elias. I know quite a bit about you…" He kept talking but the words faded as Emily stopped listening and zoned out.

Her breathing quickened as she replayed his sentence in her mind over and over again, '_I'm sure you would rather not have to go through it, Sarah._' '_Go through it, Sarah_' '_**Sarah**_'. Her heart raced as she remembered what she had forgotten, when she had been hit over the head, Mr. Glorfindel had called her Sarah. Had said he was sorry, _Sarah_. Oh God, she thought frantically, finding it hard to breathe, oh my God, they think I'm _Sarah_? Dear _God_ what has Sarah gotten herself _in_to? _Sari, Sari, Sari_. She chanted over and over in her mind. They think I'm Sarah, and they're mad at _Sarah_.

One part of her longed to try and explain it to them, try and make them see that she couldn't possibly be Sarah. But the more rational side of her reasoned, if this was what they wanted to do to Sarah, could she really just give up her twin so easily? So quick to rat out her own sister, the thought was enough to darken her cheeks and her neck. Was she so cowardly even after all these years? Was she still so bitter at her sister seemingly being more magnificent at most things in life?

No. She was not, or so she tried to tell herself in earnest. Whatever they wanted, they wanted it from Sarah, and Emily would be damned if she told them their mistake. They'd only kill her because she knew too much then go and get the _real_ Sarah and most likely hurt her too. And in an instant, Emily realised that the choice was quite clear. Play along with the men and try and find a way of escaping, or tell them she wasn't Sarah and get them to let her go.

The second option almost made her cringe with its horrendousness, she couldn't. No she _refused_ to do that to Sarah. And so it was, that she came to the decision she probably knew she would have to make all along. She would play along with these men; make them believe that she was in fact Sarah Elias. Find out as much about them as she could, and then find a way to escape. It was all so simple, play along, get information, escape. If she knew then, that it wouldn't be in the least bit simple, she would probably have tried to think of a third option.

Elrohir, noticing that his tirade was not effecting her as it should have, stopped talking and looked closely at her as she stared at the ground intently, she was thinking hard that at least was evident. A sense of pride spread through the elf as he watched her, "So you have heeded my words have you? Well," He said smugly, "I was always known for my speeches."

Elladan still sat on the ground before Emily; he had watched her with curiosity as she had obviously stopped listening when Elrohir had said her name, losing herself in her own thoughts. And Elladan wondered again why she, a mere mortal who jumped at the sound of a pin dropping would be allowed entrance into the Undying Lands. _His_ Valinor. He didn't understand, nor did he really want to. To be granted entry through the golden gates of Valinor, you had to be and elf, or of the status of someone as great as Frodo Baggins. And the girl before him, the one with matted hair and torn up wrists, was _nothing_ compared to his old friend, nor was she an elf. Frodo Baggins, he mused, there was a name he hadn't heard in about three ages.

Unexpectedly, his thoughts turned to harsher times, when the earth's plains were more together and less spread out than they were now, to when men fought for honour and to protect their families from evils untold. Unlike these times where men fought for power, land and more weapons. He remembered when men fought with swords and arrows, now they fought with guns and bombs that killed hundreds of thousands in one go, and left millions feeling the consequences. And more than that, Elladan remembered when the trees spoke, and the animals sung and danced. He remembered the forests of Lothlorien and his house in Rivendell, now claimed by man's greed of land.

He shook his head before his thoughts could pull him further into despair. He would be leaving this barren wasteland that others called earth all too soon; bringing the girl with him. Him and his brother would finally see their Naneth and Ada once more. That was enough to put a smile back on his face as he looked up, only to find Emily watching him attentively, his brother watching him with a fondness as Elrohir realised what he must have been thinking of.

Emily watched closely as Elladan stood up from his sitting position, brushing the debris from his clothes; he turned to Emily, mistrust and particular dislike plain in his eyes. "You can scream all you like." He began, his eyes and face indifferent, "No one will hear you, we are too far into the forest for any hikers to come running. So you may as well co-operate with us and do as we say, we have a week and a half journey ahead of us and you would do well to save your strength." And with that he turned around and walked back to the fallen tree branch, sitting down with a flourish of hair and tunic, his brother following after him and doing the same; all the while Emily watching with reluctant awe in her eyes.

Emily napped against the tree as the brothers spoke quietly, discussing the best routes to the Maryland coasts where the ships would await them, and take them on their two month journey to the fabled isle of Valinor. Their voices were hushed as they wanted the girl to sleep, to get her strength back at least. Elrohir was worried that she would get sick if she did not eat, but Elladan although he tried to conceal it, couldn't really care less. He would drag her there if need be, but he'd be damned if he let her slow him down.

His brother grew quiet once more, and Elladan looked towards the dozing girl, confusion obvious on his face, and it seemed Elrohir shared his confusion towards the girl for he voiced his opinions not five minutes later. "But Elladan! Estel said she would be dangerous, to not trust her. Expecting the worse you bound her legs and I her arms, but by Eru look at her! She is but as harmless as a fly." Those were Elladan's thoughts exactly, but his words came out harsher than they were meant to.

"You doubt the word of the Oracle of Gispelio, whose foresight was given to our dear friend, Estel?" He asked sternly, his eyes narrowed towards his younger brother.

"No." His brother floundered before his eyes, "No of course not. No that is not what I meant, It is just-"

"That she seems to be a little different from their description." He finished for his brother, his tone softer than before. "I do not know brother. I cannot give you the answers you seek. But alas, maybe she is just good at pretending." Elladan reasoned.

"I have not met a woman nor man who could fake tears quite so big, nor screams quite so fear laden." Elrohir pointed our dryly, still having a ring in his ears from her earlier shrieks, "But, assuming this has something to do with the dark lord rising once more," He waved a hand as his brother tried to protest, "Do not tell me the thought did not cross your mind," He said with a roll of his eyes. "But yes, presuming this has something to do with him; she could be skilled and trained in all aspects of life, including acting." He said, looking at her once more with doubtful eyes.

Elladan sighed at his brother's words, and ran a hand over his face, "Let us hope it has nothing to do with that blasted being. I thought we had made haste of his efforts two thousand years ago. And that is the way I would like to keep it." He breathed in deeply once more, exhaling long and loud and it was a moment before he spoke again, "Although if she does have something to do with him, and I'm not saying she does, what in Eru's name was the Oracle thinking when she said she must be taken to Valinor. Won't she only taint the pure waters? Or poison the beloved plants?" He asked, and Elrohir wasn't sure he was still talking to him. "Why take her to such a pure land?" He asked again, and although the question was quite obviously rhetorical, Elrohir chose to answer even so.

"Maybe," He began quietly, "It is to get her away from whatever evil lurks here." He finished, his voice just a whisper as he thought he was onto something. Elladan stiffened beside his brother as he considered his words and measured the very real and very great possibility that his brother's suggestion was all too genuine.

"Brother, say that you are correct. That your suggestion was true, what would that mean for the girl? What would that make her to the dark lord?" Asked Elladan hurriedly, his uneasiness skyrocketing. "We have fought him again and again throughout the ages since the time of the elves, every time he tried to rear his ugly head, you, I, Estel and Glorfindel would be there to thwart his evil. Is that why we must take her to Valinor? Because it was seen that she would aid him in gaining power once more?" He asked a dawning sensation at the tip of his fingers. However he never got an answer to his question, because the girl chose that moment to wake up and both the brother's eyes were brought to her slowly rising figure as she tried to shake of the fatigue.

"Come; let us see if she will eat something at last." Elrohir said, though his voice lacked its usual joking lilt.

It took the brothers three hours, the sun to set and the continuing battle of taking off the gag and asking her not to scream only for her to scream over and over again before she finally stopped screaming and just sat there with a defeated look on her face when Elrohir lifted the gag for the last time.

The men poised themselves for her screams to begin again, they waited ten minutes, but still there was no sound other than her quiet laboured breaths. She would not look at them, but instead looked at the littered forest floor, at the occasional ant that would scurry across a dry leaf, or the intricate design nature had made which consisted of twigs and leaves.

Elrohir was worn thin but his grin was to rival a vogue cover models, as he beamed at his equally smiling brother and the glum girl beneath them. "See now," He began, "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked, smiling down at her with shielded eyes. She did not look up at him, and he noted with some mild alarm at the heaving of her shoulders. He got down to crouching position before her and raised a hand to lift her chin. Elladan stood beside him, his hand inching towards the hilt of his sword just in case her true colours showed.

"Miss Sarah, why do you weep? Have we not told you that no harm will come of you?" He asked looking at her, for once his eyes not guarded but sympathetic. She looked up at his eyes, almost blinded by the light shining right back out of them, her mouth opened once and closed as she cut off the words that wished to tell him that her name was not Sarah, that she was not who they wanted. The tears kept falling as she ripped her head from his soft fingers, missing their touch as soon as she did but refusing to look back at his crouching form.

She wept for her sister, and for what these men would have done to her, she wept for her situation and the hopelessness of it, she wept for her mother who she hadn't told she loved her lately, she wept for her father, for whose goodbye she so readily dismissed the morning of his leaving. And lastly, she wept for herself, and for everything that she could have done to prevent this ever happening, from not going to the art show, to refusing to let her mom bail on her…So many things she could have done. Yet she had been too stubborn to see it. To see how it would all play out. To see the _consequences_ of her actions.

So, seeing she wasn't going to speak to them any time soon, Elladan and Elrohir left her to her sadness, to the tears that wouldn't stop and the feeling of defeat shown plainly on her features when at last she stopped crying and looked at the two of them who were perched on their fallen tree branch once more, across the little forest clearing behind the now lit fire pit. It was a while before she noted that it was dark again, the moon half covered in shadow, and she wondered how long they had let her sleep. Looking down briefly from the twins she noted with some curiosity at the flames and what a vivid colour they were before she raised her head once more to look at the brothers. They stared back at her, identical faces unreadable, grey eyes still shining in a way that made a distant part of her feel sick with resentment. Her eyes were red and raw from crying, her face still damp. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but all that came out was a raspy sound that not even she realised came from her own mouth.

She shut her mouth, and closed her eyes once more, coughing once, twice, thrice as she tried to clear her throat. She opened her eyes and shoved her hands out in front of her, "Untie." She stated simply, a pleading message in her blue-green eyes, the word coming out harsh and nothing louder than a whisper as she shoved her hands out again for emphasis.

The brother's looked at one another, just a slight turn of the head, but that was enough to convey a whole conversation between the two who knew one another better than they knew themselves. Elrohir turned his head back to her, and shook his in answer, "We cannot milady, I am sorry." He said, with an incline of his head, watching as her face fell and her bound hands landed back in her lap, her eyes growing wide once more, her breathing picking up.

Emily shook her head, this was nonsense, any fool could see that the ties on her hand were too tight and the more she tried to move her hands to loosen the rope the more they seemed to tighten and cut into her skin leaving a low steady trickle of blood running down her arm. She breathed in once, trying to calm her nerves and looked up again with new determination. Her raw throat would not permit her to talk full sentences, so she opted to sound like a retard for a little bit and just use singular words to save her the hurt and energy. "Mr. Glorfindel." She rasped out, biting her bottom lip. Maybe if she could talk to Mr. Glorfindel, he could reason with the men, she would forgive him, but he had to let her _go_.

Elladan's brow furrowed as he looked at the girl he thought to be Sarah, "He is here. He has gone to catch dinner." He said carefully, not too sure what exactly the girl knew. She nodded her head almost as if she thought as much, which served to muddle and confuse Elladan.

She pushed out her feet from where she had them curled up against her, "Feet. Untie." She said again. Surely they would untie her feet, only a fool would go running off into the woods at night and a fool she was not, contrary to popular belief, Emily actually liked living; she had no wish to die a death via mauling by a bear.

Elladan shook his head, "We cannot, milady. We wouldn't exactly be amazing kidnappers would be?" His mouth gave the ghost of a smile, but it was lost even before it had begun and Emily watched as his eyes hardened once more.

"Not run away." She said, finding the pounding in the back of her head a bother when trying to find the energy to talk. "Untie. Legs. Not run away." She repeated, her head feeling dizzy by the end of it.

Elrohir looked towards his brother again, another conversation passing between them in a matter of milliseconds. Elrohir got up and walked towards Emily, and much to her surprise, picked her up and brought her closer to the fire, resting her back on a mirroring log like the ones the twins had been sitting on while knelt down, producing a small dagger from his belt.

Emily gave a startled, mangled cry and turned her face away from his as he gave a light chuckle, "Why would I harm you now, Miss Sarah?" He asked with reason in his voice, "Why would I strike you now when you are so needed elsewhere?" He asked again almost to himself, as Emily turned back to look at him. In time to see his dagger reflect the fire's glow as he brought it swiftly down in an arching motion. Emily watched in stunned awe as his blade cut through the ropes as if they were soft butter and watched as he sheathed it back at his belt.

She grinned as blood raced down to her toes, the circulation moving once more as she wiggled her toes a sound of delight coming from her coarse throat. Elrohir watched her with confusion and a bit of amusement as she circled her ankles, while Elladan watched her in bafflement. His instructions were confusing, he felt that she was not untrustworthy, but, who was he to doubt the oracle and Estel?

Emily looked up suddenly, remembering that the two men were still there. "Thank. You." She coughed out, looking uncomfortable to have two very beautiful and very strong looking men watching her so intently.

Elrohir nodded as he went to sit back down besides his brother, "You are welcome." Was all he said, while he outstretched his long legs to relax. Emily watched him with eyes cast in a utter dreamlike quality. These were mundane men, doing mundane things with a mundane girl tied up across from their little mundane fire. This wasn't a normal kidnapping, and Emily half wanted to ask when they were going to cut out her tongue and send it to her father for leverage. But, considering the size of the blades she vaguely remembered from the night before, or the night she had been knocked unconscious (because she couldn't really tell when that had been) she kinda didn't want to know.

"Water." She said suddenly, remembering the ache in her throat and the constant squirming and rumbling of her stomach, "Please." She added with a hint of urgency. Elrohir shot up at once, fetching his water sac and placing it into the girls bound hands. Emily looked at the leather thing in her hands. "Said water, not middle age bag." She muttered, looking at the top of it trying to find a twistable lid or something. The only thing she could see was a stopper which was tied in place with slim strips of leather. She looked up helplessly, she wanted water, not a mathematical quiz in which the answer to unscrewing the top was pie dived by four.

Elrohir sighed and gently plucked it from her fingers, his own slim ones untying the leather straps in a matter of seconds and removing the wood stopper, putting the sack back in her hands. She nodded her thanks and put the rim to her lips, tipping the sac back revelling in delight as the clear fluid ran down her parched throat. She intended to drink slowly, but in the end gave into desire and drunk hard and fast, not stopping even when she semi-shocked on the fountains of water the sac contained. In under a minute she had finished the last drop with a sheepish look to Elrohir, holding it up with her two tied hands, "More?" She asked her cheeks slightly flushed.

The man before her had a look of astonishment on his face, "By Eru that sac had lasted me three weeks…You finished it in thirty seconds."

Emily coughed once and then again to clear her throat. The water had helped, although it still felt raw, and her voice was still slightly hoarse when she spoke again, "Well maybe if you hadn't gagged me, we wouldn't be in this position. Now please can I have some more? Surely it's in the 'Kidnapping for Dummies' hand book that you have to at least give your kidnapped person water if you want the money at the end of it." She said dryly, some of her earlier anger seeping back.

Elrohir blanched, "Did you just call me an idiot?" He asked, holding his water sac to his chest.

Emily sighed in exasperation, "No, It was an expression you idiot." She said with a roll of her eyes, think like Sarah, think like Sarah, was all that was chanting around her head. She had to think, act, and look like Sarah. Although the last one she had down to an art because in truth that was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, looking like her damn sister. She sighed, again, was she seriously so ready to condemn her sister to the same fate she obviously had?

Fate? She almost burst out laughing; she was talking like the two twits in front of her, like she was born in middle aged England or something like that. Old English, the times of Shakespeare and further back. There was no such thing as 'fate' only free will, and decisions and consequences, and obviously some of Sarah's decisions had led to these consequences. She sighed once more, and then remembered her tasks. Play along; get information, try and escape. She could do at least one of them now.

"So…" She began, as a disgruntled Elrohir took his seat, "Your names?" She asked conversationally, conspicuously trying to see through the gloom of night and into the forest, looking for any signs of a road or at least an opening where she could run to. There wasn't. She had to hand it to the men before her; they did a good job in finding a secluded place. She wasn't even sure secluded places even _existed_ anymore, but obviously they did if peter pan and Robin Hood over there could find them, she thought.

Elladan watched her carefully, "Muindor it is not wise to give her our names." He muttered in elfish.

Emily screwed up her face, "What was that? Sounds familiar, yet I don't think I've ever heard it before." She said quietly, watching Elladan's face change from guarded to 'royally pissed off' in a matter of seconds.

"You do not speak the language of the Eldar young one, so do not claim to know it." He hissed out.

Elrohir watched the exchange with raised eyebrows, "Come now muindor, she knows nothing of Sindarin, it is okay. She maybe mistook our tones for some other language." Elrohir replied to his brother in Sindarin, a language the two of them and Glorfindel plus a handful of elves who stayed had kept alive all these years.

Emily watched as the two brothers spoke a language that she was sure she knew every word to, but just couldn't remember. She couldn't remember hearing it, or even knowing it existed, but she _knew_ she knew it…She just forgot; as crazy as it sounded to her. She sighed again, this was going no where. She would try another tactic.

"So why'd you kidnap me?" She asked barely concealing her boiling anger, she was sitting in the dirt, unbearably starving, with a parched throat, a bruise at the back of her head the size of a small continent and her wrists slowly healing and re-healing the opening wounds every time the rope rubbed against them. So sue her if she was just a little bit pissed off.

Emily looked at the men in front of her, she still didn't know their names but for now she would call them 'water sac guy' and 'guy who's pissed off guy', while she named them she realised once again with mild shock that it was completely and ridiculously hard to tell them apart. From their dark hair, and silver grey eyes that seemed to have an unearthly shine to them, they were Michael Angelo's David reproductions, except, living, breathing, and they had no limbs missing.

"Gwenyn." She blurted out suddenly her expression blank, her eyes clouding over for a fraction of time before becoming clear again and her expression changed back to the one she had before, a one of waiting. "Well?" She asked impatiently, "Aren't you at least going to tell me your grand plan?"

Elladan's face had drained of colour, and Elrohir was a mask of shock, complete apprehension and disbelief. "_What_, did you say?" Elladan choked out, looking straight at her, mistrust burning in his grey eyes.

"I _said_," Emily began, annoyed that she had to ask her question for a third time, "Aren't you going to tell me your grand plan? Why you kidnapped me?" She asked, completely confused as to why they were looking at her like that, as though she had grown a second head and it had begun singing Shakespearian love ballads.

"No." Elrohir hissed, standing up and pulling the dagger out of his belt, stalking up to her and pushing the tip of the metal to her throat faster than she could blink; watching as her eyes grew wide with fear. "Before that." He said.

"Before _what_?" Emily squeaked out, "I didn't say anything before that!" She protested, her voice too high pitched for her heart not to have been beating far faster than normal.

"Liar!" Elladan shouted, "You uttered _Gwenyn_! The Sindarin name for _twins_." His face was murderous, and he looked like he wanted to kill Emily where she sat. And for the first time since she had initially woken up, full fear rested in her heart. It's icy grip constraining her hearts movements and making her short of breath. In a moment of fight or flight, her brain seemed to shut down at the imminent danger of a dagger to her throat and a livid man getting up from the bench and stalking towards her like she was a demon incarnate. She watched in a sort of detached way as Elladan drew a blade, and from the flash of light it caught from the fire, she assumed it was the same silver blade he had used to save her the other night.

Elladan held the blade straight and narrow, the tip resting against her throat so hard that Emily could feel a trickle of blood trail down her neck, hot and warm. "Wh-what are you _doing_? I didn't- I don't even know what Sininrin _is_- you…you _have_ to believe me. I didn't!" She wheezed out, looking up at the long blade Elladan had pointed at her throat. Breathing hard and heavy as she followed the blade up to his torso and to his thundering eyes. If she thought they were hard to look at before, she _really_ hadn't anticipated the fear she felt now just be looking at the grey inner lighted eyes.

"You are a filthy liar." Elrohir spat out, pushing the hilt of his own dagger further, watching in satisfaction as the sharp tip broke the first layer of skin on the girl's neck.

"Ai!" A voice cut through the darkness, causing the brothers to look up, their grips on their swords the waver and cause enough distraction for Emily's mind to switch back on in double time, causing her flight motion to kick in and send her scrabbling sideways along the log her back was against, watching the brothers cast glances in her direction and then focus their attention back to the voice which had invariably stopped them murdering her, or, that's how Emily saw it anyway. "Daro i!" The voice said again, and both brothers lowered their blades altogether, Elrohir sheathing his blade in his belt while Elladan secured his behind his back.

Emily watched as a figure came out of the darkness, her breathing spiking high levels that made her feel light headed as her body wasn't pulling in enough oxygen, her gasps for breath too short to help her breathe properly. The little clearing was silent apart from her raged breaths and the low crackles of the burning fire, her shallow breathing causing black spots to appear before her eyes.

The man coming towards her had blonde as sunlight hair which seemed to glisten even now in the light and float around his head; he had green eyes so pure she was sure they were contact lenses, and it took her a moment to realise _who_, exactly, it was. "Mr. Glorfindel?" She asked, taking a deep breath afterwards, her hands flying to her throat just to make sure her head was still attached, feeling with some dizziness the slickness of blood she felt at the two wounds at her neck. Mr. Glorfindel looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown.

"What on earth happened here?" He asked incredulous, "I leave you for a few hours to scout the trail and I come back to carnage?" He asked, stopping by the fire so that his eyes reflected the light the flames gave off as he stared questioningly at the brothers. He dropped something that had been in his hands beside the fire pit, and when Emily looked down towards it she instantly regretted it. It was a hare, or the carcass of a hare at least as it lay dead and motionless on the floor.

Elrohir had the grace to at least look a little bit ashamed, if but still defiant, Elladan on the other hand took up the defensive stance and pointed his blade accusingly at the cowering Emily as she tried to make herself look as small as possible, all the while trying to figure out why her world history teacher was in on her kidnapping.

"She uttered a Sindarin word." Elladan said boldly, "She said the word 'twins', Gwenyn. And now she claims to have no memory of ever saying it." He finished, his face grim and his mouth a hard line.

Emily's heart raced again as she watched as the three men turned to look at her once more, she shuffled sideways again, trying to put as much space between them and her neck. Elladan looked at her in disgust, while Elrohir looked a little sorry as he caught sight of her still slightly bleeding neck, while Mr. Glorfindel had a look of confusion on his face, his eyes disbelieving.

"Is this true?" Mr. Glorfindel asked, his eyes questioning.

"Is _what_ true?" She asked, fear and incredulity laced in her voice, "That I said that godforsaken word? Gwenny? Gwenany?" She tried to remember how the brothers said it, "See? I don't even know how to _pronounce_ it let alone say it out loud! And when I try and tell them this, I almost get my throat slit. I didn't even know there was a language _called_ Sirinin!" She all but shouted, her eyes filled with tears as she wrapped her hands around her knees, "I just want to go home." She stated, throwing her head onto the top of her knees, not even registering the pain that flared up at the back of her head, "I want clean clothes, and my mom, and my sister and my dad. I just want to go _home_." She ended her voice thick with tears.

Elladan's face softened a fair bit as he lowered the sword he had pointed at her, while Elrohir looked torn between not wanting to buy any of her words and feeling extremely bad for her. While Mr. Glorfindel looked at her shuddering shoulders with an unreadable expression, and it wasn't until minutes later that he spoke a word.

"Sarah you should rest." Was what he said, his voice as blank as his words. And any hope that Emily had about him possibly helping her out of her situation went out of the window, only causing her shoulders to slump further while she sobbed into her knees, loudly and unashamedly grieving for everything from her wet clothes, to not being able to bake cakes with her mom anymore, at least until she escaped that was. It seemed that that hope alone was what kept her from out rightly collapsing in front of them. "Our journey to the boats will take a week and a half and we cannot stop if you cannot catch up." Mr. Glorfindel warned.

Emily took a deep breath, shifting her body once more so that she was facing away from the three men that looked at her as if she had committed acts of treason and genocide in one day. If they thought she was getting on those boats, then they were dumber than they seemed, she thought, resting the side of her head on the log. She would go with them until she found an escape, get information then run home and tell her mother everything, and they would be sorry they ever touched her throat with their horrid blades.

For her father, and her mother. For Sarah. And for her home, because home is where the heart is and Emily's heart was with her sister and she would do anything for her. Including suffer at the hands of kidnapers to keep her safe. _For Sarah_, she repeated in her head, _for home_.

Just so you know, this chapter was just a filler chapter, I'm sorry nothing exciting happened in it aha there wasn't a lot of action and if you're confused: Elladan, Elrohir and Mr. Glorfindel do not know she is Emily and not Sarah. The girls look so alike that people generally mistake them for each other.

Tolkien wrote that if the elves remained on earth they would eventually fade to the eyes of humans and this will be represented later, just in case you thought I'd go against everything he wrote.

I'm not too sure if Glorfindel had green eyes, but I thought I wouldn't give him blue eyes as Legolas already has them aha

If some of you are still confused about Emily's decision to not speak up, I basically thought that in reality, what twin sister, or any sister or family member would condemn their other family members to the same fate they had been in, only to save their own skin. Emily loves Sarah, possibly more than Sarah loves her and would do anything to make Sarah happy and to keep her safe. Of course, this does not mean that Emily won't try and escape. Because she will, as anyone would in that situation.

I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible, and I think I'm getting it, but if at any point you feel like Emily is a Mary-Sue, please do tell me, and I'll try and sort it out. But at least when you tell me, try and say it as constructive criticism and not flaming aha

And lastly, when Emily says Gwenyn, she forgets it instantly, just in case any of you got confused as to why she kept denying it. In her mind, she didn't say it, doesn't even know the word exsists.

Translations: 

**Gwenyn**: _Twins_

**Muindor**: _Brother_

**Naneth: **_Mother_

**Ada**_: Father_

**Ai**: _Ah_

**Daro i**: _Stop that_

Thank you for reading! And try and review (:

xx


	4. Chapter 3

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I do not own the world of the Lord of the Rings, nor do I own Elladan or Elrohir and even more horrible, Ii do not own Glorfindel, nor the forests of America aha I only own Emily, Sarah, their somewhat scatterbrained mother and their elusive father (;

**A/N:** Hey guys, so again, I got a lot of people clicking the story and I got loads of reviews, and favourite stories, and story alerts and author alerts. Which put me in such a good mood after I read a review that was particularly nasty.

Now, I don't want to bore you with what I have to say, so I'll keep it short. I just want to say thank you so much to all the people who reviewed in retaliation and told me not to worry about that one reviewer who seems hell bent on making me not continue the story when in reality; I'm probably going to continue it for that exact reason. I also want to thank your reassurances that Emily isn't a Mary sue (: I didn't think she was, nor do I have any intention for her to be one.

Although one reviewer did point out that it doesn't matter if Emily was a Mary-sue, as long as it was well written she would still read it, my many thanks indeed.

Another thing I'd like to say is that I'm from England, so I don't know anything about America or its terrain so for all intensive pretences, there is now a forest on the way to the Maryland coast aha Oh and I only spell 'mom' that way because It doesn't suit having an American character say the word and English way aha

This chapter and the next chapter will be the chapters on the journey to the ships, and it may seem like the story isn't picking up, but bare with me, every story needs a run up (:

Please enjoy, and I'm sure this is going to be a long chapter, so bare with me one more aha

Oh and rated a little bit for some swearingg, sorry !

* * *

The men had watched as Emily had cried herself to sleep, and a tension seemed to lift from their broad shoulders as they watched her breathing deepen in a fitful stupor. Elladan had looked at her, his whole body showing utter bewilderment while he wiped a hand down over his face, saying nothing yet conveying everything. The men had sat by the fire then, discussing all sorts, none wanting to dwell on the sleeping figure in front of them whose broken sobs still echoed in their ears long after the tears had stopped. Then had come the usual arguments on who would stand watch first, and, wanting to avoid the raised voices and eventual exhaustion, Elrohir volunteered to be on first watch, saying he would wake Glorfindel in an hour and a half.

"Are you sure brother? I could…" Elladan, his brother trailed off, his offer being conveyed without words. His eyes shone with tiredness- a tiredness that seemed so intense Elrohir was sure it looked as if his brother hadn't slept in years- yet his jaw was set and determined to take over if his younger brother could not.

Elrohir laid a hand on his twins shoulder, squeezing lightly and smiling encouragingly, putting aside the part for him that wished for a bedroll but knowing that when his time came he would be greeted with the forest floor. "Nay brother, go and sleep." He said with a grin that turned mischievous at once, "Better you sleep than I," He ventured, "For it is you and not me who looks like an old man."

Elladan's smile at his brother saying he would take first watch vanished at the insult, "Well If I look like an old man what do you look like?" He asked, a grin forming and mischief in his eyes, "You look like the equally old man standing next to his old brother." He finished rolling his eyes as Elrohir narrowed his.

"Sleep well old man." Elrohir muttered as he watched his brother walk to where Glorfindel had already fallen asleep by their log, eyes wide open staring into his dreams.

"Make sure your elderly eyesight keeps us safe." He brother replied sitting down by Glorfindel. It was a mere mater of seconds before his breaths came slower and his eyes, open as he slept, lost their focus.

Elrohir sighed, looking fondly at the two companions who had been a constant in his life since the days of the elves. They had aged a bit, not by much, only four or five years added onto their features. But all three looked two or three years under thirty still, even with the lack of sleep all three had gotten when Elrohir had hit Sarah over the head with that plank of wood and brought her to this wood. Abandoning their car on an unnamed street, carrying her the rest of the way.

He sat down at the edge of the clearing, resting his back against a tree and watched the girl as she slept, her head upon her knees, her arms hugging her legs to her chest as she leaned against the log. Elrohir cocked his head to the side watching her blonde hair shine in the light from the fire, her slender back rising and falling softly as she dozed.

He wondered to himself what she dreamed of, if they were thoughts of murder and Sauron. Or if they were the dreams he suspected of her having, of three men who had bound and gagged her while her mind warped the images so much that they were not men, but creatures. As if confirming this, she gave a small whimper and turned her head the other way, facing the fire.

Her face troubled even in sleep. He sighed, there was something off about her, he didn't know what, but there was, something…not pure, but some innocence about her that he thought wouldn't of been in Sarah Elias from what Glorfindel had told them.

When Estel had come for them and given them the dates, the three had assimilated into human life, wearing their hair out of hair bands as to hind their ears. They had observed the twins, watching how they acted and reacted to different things from the age of ten. It became obvious very early on that Sarah was the one the prophecy had been woven about, not her twin, Emily. But what didn't become obvious was which twin was which- their genes being so alike that the three men regularly found themselves bickering over what twin was which. Until, three years ago Glorfindel had enrolled as a teacher at the school, having got qualifications years before to be allowed to teach in the prestigious school.

From there Glorfindel got to know the twins a little better, becoming a somewhat 'friend' to Emily, although Sarah had shown signs of not wanting anything to do with Glorfindel apart from trying to tempt the poor man with low tops and even shorter skirts. Elrohir chuckled quietly, although Sarah's nose wrinkled and then smoothed out as she fell back asleep.

Elrohir recalled the funny memory when Glorfindel had rushed to their apartment with a red face proclaiming he couldn't do it anymore. When questioned by the amused brother's he had confessed that the girl had, on multiple occasions made hand gestures or comments pointing to the act of sexual intercourse with her world history teacher. A notion that had made both Elrohir and his brother laugh for days on end at the hilarity of the situation. Needless to say, Glorfindel didn't find it funny and faked being sick for a week to escape the girl.

The ellon sighed again, looking at the girl as one of her hands opened and closed and her breathing quickened as she woke up. Elrohir watched her eyes focus and look around at her surrounding with a crushed air about her.

Emily's sleep had been less than lovely, more tiring than it was deep and soothing and she woke up with an crick in her neck and the back of her head reignited with fiery pain. The ache in her head was so much so that it took her a ridiculous amount of time to focus and gather in her surroundings.

She couldn't see her captives so she looked around for them, maybe they had left her to die. _Maybe that's not such a bad thing_, a voice inside her head whispered soothingly, _what do you know about them? They could hurt you even more; you don't want that do you?_ It asked, its voice like a caress, No, she replied, but I also don't want to die.

It was as she battled with her inner voice that she finally noticed the two of her captors asleep next to each other, sitting on the ground, their backs against their log, eyes wide open and staring at her unblinkingly. Emily let out a shriek and tried to shuffle away from them, she couldn't see if they were breathing, but their eyes were unfocused and unseeing, almost as if…_as if their dead_, the voice finished for her.

The men before her stirred slightly, their eyes coming into focus and alarm, Glorfindel springing to his feet, hand already at his back, Elrohir's name on his lips while Elladan was quick on his tail, pulling a bow from his back, the arrow already perched in the notch. "What is it?" Glorfindel asked panicked, swinging around in an ark brandishing his swords to the missing enemies. "Elrohir?" Elladan asked, his voice raised, and his bow pointed into the shadows.

"You…You sleep with your eyes _open_?" Emily whispered horrified, her eyes wide. Thank God they're not dead, her mind breathing a sigh and her heart racing with relief. Although why in the world she was relieved that her captives were still breathing, she had no idea.

Glorfindel looked at her with an incredulous expression, his blade dropping to his side, while Elladan merely rolled his eyes at her, lowering his bow and pulling the arrow from its perch. All the while, Elrohir sat by his tree laughing like there was no tomorrow. He laughed so much that when the other three turned around to look at him, tears had fallen from his eyes and he was clutching his stomach as though his insides were about to spill out.

"You- I…" Elrohir tried to choke out words, his eyes streaming with tears he could barely see the three people in front of him. "Sarah your face." He managed, collapsing into laughter again.

Emily looked horrified, "My face?" She shouted, "You're laughing at my _face_?" She managed to struggle to her feet, using the log as an anchor to balance on, turning on Elrohir with anger, "I wake up and find them with their eyes WIDE OPEN. How the hell do you think that felt? I thought they were dead! Who the _hell_ sleeps with their eyes open anyway?" She asked in pure disbelief, swinging around to face a grinning Mr. Glorfindel and an Elladan with a phantom of a smile on his face.

"Sarah- Sarah calm down." Mr. Glorfindel said, glancing at Elrohir who seemed to be collecting himself, "Myself and my companions sleep with our eyes open." He said as if it were the most known thing in the world.

"…No one sleeps with their eyes open." She said uncertainly, "Not unless they're freaks." She added, with a shrug of her shoulders, sensing, rather than hearing Elrohir get up and walk towards her.

Elladan shot her an annoyed look, "If you would care to stop screaming, I'd like to get some sleep." He said turning his back to her and sinking to the floor, resting his head against the log once more.

Mr. Glorfindel shook his head at Sarah, a smile still on his lips, "Do not worry Miss Elias, we are not dead, merely sleeping." He said oddly cheerful, sitting down next to Elladan while Emily watched in horror as his eyes stayed open and lost focus, his breathing deepening in the sure signs of sleep.

Emily physically gagged, that had been the scariest most disgusting point in her life, and she was about to stalk off when she forgot that one twin was still behind her. She swung around with an accusing air and Elrohir held up his hands in surrender. "You have to admit Milady, your expression was funny." He said, letting out a chuckle while trying to keep his face straight.

Emily glare at him, and attempted to make to sit down again. It was only then that she remembered why on earth she had woken up in the first place. A insistent sharp pain in her groin couldn't be ignored anymore, and it was time to ask the inevitable question having previously decided not to go with hand gestures that could be mistaken for something else.

She almost grimaced when she looked at the elf, his eyes turning to curiosity at her obvious discomfort. "Look. I'm just gonna say this, and get it over and done with, although I dread the answer out here in the great outdoors," She began with a sigh, "I need to pee." She stated bluntly, ignoring the reddening in her cheeks and her inflamed neck and the hot tip of her nose.

Elrohir looked at her; a smile forming as though he was looking at a child who had just asked a question that had saddened him in some way. "I am sorry that you'll have to go through this." He muttered to himself, throwing a glance to where his brother and his friend slept wide eyed by the fire, walking off into the gloom of night where the only illumination was by dim moonlight.

Emily stumbled after him, not having gotten used to walking and stumbling over twigs, rocks and probably large bugs as well, "What the…What, you…you…erm-man, yes man, where are you going?" She asked confused, having to resort to calling him 'man' as they hadn't told her their names yet.

Elrohir didn't answer her question but stopped beside a wide tree, pulling his dagger from his belt while crouching down and digging a hole in the ground. He rose to his full height, his expression sheepish and his cheeks tinged with a slight colour. Emily stared at him in scepticism and revulsion, "You have got to be kidding me." She said her eyes wide. "You can't possibly expect me to use that…that _hole_ in the _ground_!" She almost shouted, her anger bubbling. It was one thing to kidnap her, but it was another thing to not have a toilet and running water.

"I jest you not, fair lady." Elrohir said with a small smile, "You will have to cover up the hole when you are done, we don't want anyone to follow our tracks." He stated seriously, catching her eye with a nod of his head.

Emily felt like she was about to be sick, a hole in the ground. They wanted her to pee in a hole in the ground. This wasn't 1586. This was 2079. The twenty-first century if she wasn't mistaken. She couldn't even seem to find the words to express her disgust and adamant refusal so instead she blurted out: "Well how on earth do you expect me to pee with my hands tied." She asked her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes leaving his intense grey irises and floated back to the hole he had dug.

"Oh. Right." Elrohir visibly blushed this time, apologising, tucking his dagger in his belt, and raising his hands to her own, grimacing at the cuts and bruising on her wrists, the dried and fresh blood caking her skin. His fingers brushed her skin, and Emily watched him with suspicion and awe as his nimble pale fingers untied the knots with ease, knots she thought could only be broken with a strong knife.

She sighed in delight at the pressure being taken off her wrists, and although they were torn up, she could still move them, albeit painfully, but at least she could move them. Elrohir watched her with a small smile, placing the dagger in her hands with distrust in his eyes, "Do not try anything young lady." He said sternly, "Or I will have to bring you back to camp without you having relived yourself." He finished, looking a bit awkward with himself, surely he wasn't going to stand there while she peed. Emily raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, gripping the dagger with fingers slick with the blood from her wrists. "I will just be around the tree." He added the last bit as an afterthought, his cheeks still a bit red as he left her to it.

Emily nodded after him almost absently, trying to think how in the world she was going to do this.

Five gruelling minutes later, after difficulties with covering the hole and using a leaf to wipe –at which point she almost started crying- curses ringing in hers and Elrohir's ears, she called out "I'm finished!" And walked out front behind the tree with a triumphant expression on her face. Elrohir raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face, holding out his water sac.

"Washing of the hands?" He asked, his eyes sparkling as he watched a sigh leave her lips and her eyes light up.

"I cannot thank you enough…You don't want to see me when I-" She cut herself off, "Actually no, don't worry, you'll see it when you see it." She said mischievously, referring to her awful non-obsessive compulsive disorder related panic attacks. "Although it may have been better if you hand some antibacterial spray." She added as in an afterthought.

Elrohir untied the top of the sac, letting the water run over her hands as she wound them around each other furiously while he watched with mild curiosity. "Le Hannon." She murmured suddenly, retracting her hands and wiping them on her dirty trouser legs.

Elrohir almost dropped his water sac, "What did you say?" He whispered, his eyes narrowed.

"I didn't say anything." Emily replied, her hands slowing as she wiped them dry, "Why?" She asked, her face blank.

Elrohir's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as he discarded the water sac somewhere in the undergrowth and raised his hand to her throat, closing around the jugular and pushing her up against the tree. "Do not lie to me you mortal." He spat, venom in his words, "I have had enough of your lies. You know our language now stop pretending you do not." As If to emphasis his words, his hand tightened around her throat as he stared into her eyes with annoyance.

Emily clawed at his hands, her mouth opening and closing while she tried to breathe in the air that her lungs so desperately needed. Elrohir watched in a detached fascination as her cream skin first blemished with pink patches then watched again as her whole face turned red form lack of oxygen. She was shaking her head furiously, trying to tell him she didn't say anything while tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over so much so that Elrohir let her lose and caught her before she fell to the floor.

He watched her struggling to breathe and get air into her lungs fast enough, all with a guilty expression on his face. Pulling her face close to his, he watched her eyes wide with fear as they stared back into his grey ones, "Why must you lie?" He whispered, his breath ticking her lips, "Why must you try and deceive us? I do not wish to hurt you maiden…I do not wish to." He finished, pulling his head back and setting her down on her feet, taking his arm back from around her.

At which point Emily's knees gave out from under her and she gripped Elrohir's arm to steady herself, her hands enclosing his hard muscles in a death grip, "I am not lying." She wheezed out, "I…I s-swear to you. I am not lying." She said again, looking up at his eyes, and for the life of him, Elrohir could not see a hint of deception in them.

"You truly think you have not said them?" He asked, "You do not remember?" His face looked unconvinced, but his eyes showed he wanted to believe her.

"I didn't say anything." She said again, her eyes hard as she struggled to stand on her own while getting enough air into her lungs; her throat was on fire- his grip had been that of a man trying to escape death-from his hold and the earlier cuts from the knives.

At that moment it occurred to Emily that it wasn't little things that hurt, it was her whole body that hurt. Not one inch didn't hurt, and for the life of her, she couldn't work out why the pinky toe on her right foot stung like a bitch. It was enough of a realisation to cause her knees to wobble once again, and, sensing that the girl wouldn't be able to walk the two minute journey back to the camp, Elrohir swung her into his arms and begun to walk back calmly as if he did this everyday.

Emily didn't have any fight left in her, she was cold, she was tired, and she bloody hurt; so she promised herself that she would tell him off later for picking her up without asking. Although, come to think of it, his arms _were_ really strong and warm, and she really _was_ tired. With these thoughts in mind, it was a matter of seconds before she dozed off, curling into Elrohir instinctively. For the Ellon's part, he stopped walking and looked down at her startled, not quite sure what to do with a seventeen year old girl curled into him, clutching his tunic as she slept as though it were a lifeboat as she drowned. Elrohir sighed, tightened his hold around her and made his way back to the clearing, using another route as to hide that they'd been there. Not that any morals would find their tracks, but if a follower of Sauron was to track them…It wouldn't bode well for them if they came across their footfalls.

When he got to the clearing, Elladan was snoring lightly while Glorfindel's breaths were deep and steady. Elrohir smiled, he'd have to tease his brother about the snoring in the morning. Coming back to himself, he remembered the bundle of joy –note the sarcasm- in his arms and sighed for the umpteenth time that night. He knelt by the log she had claimed for her own and attempted to lay her down, although when he let go, she didn't drop lightly like she was supposed to. Elrohir frowned, and looked down to where she still clutched his tunic between her slightly smaller than average hands. He rolled his eyes, attempting to pry the fingers off gently, only to elicit a whimper from the sleeping girl and to have her clutch his tunic even more tightly.

Elrohir shook his head, "Alright you little cretin, have it your way." He murmured softly, sitting down beside her and letting her head rest on his chest. In some part of his mind, he registered the danger of being this close with what they assumed to be the enemy. Even though she seemed completely sane, trustworthy, and not hell bent on destroying all forms of life. It was for that reason alone, and his slightly impulsive nature that led him to learn his head down and whisper into her ear, "Elrohir." He stated, "My name is Elrohir."

* * *

It was in that position, Elrohir's arms around her while she slept, that Elladan found his brother in the morning, eyes wide open him having opted not to wake the others for their shifts, and staying up the whole night to keep watch. At first Elorhir smiled at him, but seeing his expression the smile turned to a frown and the greeting dried on his lips. Elladan was furious. Here was his 'careful' brother, practically shacking up with the girl who they supposed was going to help Sauron to power again, and this time probably succeed. Elladan barely concealed his anger, jumping up from his resting place causing Glorfindel to stir and look around with a confused expression. Elladan stalked towards his brother, his eyes visibly sparking with fury as he pointed an accusing finger at the two of them sitting there so cosy.

"Have you no sham brother?" He hissed out, throwing a disgusted glance in Emily's direction, though the human hadn't roused yet.

Elrohir's frown deepened at his brother's words, "What do you mean, brother?" He asked, his face worried. "What have I done?"

"What have you done?" Elladan asked sarcastically, "Well brother why don't you tell me what you've done. Because I certainly don't know." He said half smug and half smarting with fury, throwing a dismissive hand towards Emily who was stirring lightly.

Emily woke up slowly, coming to terms with the fact that it was now morning and the sun was, once again, too bright for her eyes to handle. She blinked a few times, trying to get the sleep from her eyes and the dreams out of her head while she looked up, only to meet furious grey eyes that made her insides churn horribly and made her feel about a centimetre in length.

"What…What is-" Elladan cut her off with a series of furious words that she didn't understand and didn't particularly want to.

"If you touch my brother again, I'll kill you myself." He ground out, his voice not dissimilar to steel, and his eyes molten metal.

Emily visibly flinched at his tone and ripped her hands from Elrohir, whom in reality she didn't really understand why she had been curled up against him in the first place. The only thing she remembered was him telling her his name, but obviously that meant moot point when she wasn't allowed to touch him anymore. And, to make certain that never happened, she scooted down the log away from him, making a vow to keep three feet away from him at all times.

Glorfindel had watched the scene deteriorate with mild alarm, and took this point as his cue to intervene, he got up slowly, watching the heavy rise and fall of Elladan's shoulders, Elrohir's face stuck in disbelief at his brother's words, and Emily's frightened eyes, looking anyway but at Elrohir and Elladan. He laid a reassuring hand on Elladan's back, feeling the muscles tense then relax at his touch.

"Come now brother, I am sure she meant no harm." He murmured softly, patting his shoulder lightly, "Elrohir, come, up now, we must leave camp and head north. There is a car waiting for us by the road."

Elrohir threw an annoyed look at his brother, "Unmarked?" He asked Glorfindel, still staring hard at his brother.

"Of course un-marked." Glorfindel replied, his tone assuming that everyone should know this as it was common sense.

Emily's eyes narrowed, this was her chance to get away. And when she got back home, she would make _sure_ her mother went after Elladan first. She began biting her lip, a nervous habit she had acquired when she was trying to plan something, or when she was trying to get a way to bail Sarah out of jail without her parents knowing. As if an afterthought she remembered last night, and how she had wanted some antibacterial hand spray for when she had used that stone aged toilet. And again that brought her back to the fact that she didn't know where her antibacterial hand spray actually was. She could remember putting it in her overnight bag from Jenna's, but that was about it. At the thought of her overnight bag, she could have jumped for joy, or she could have punched herself for not realising it sooner. She almost gasped: her _phone_! She had all three of her phones in her bag! At this hopeful thought she resisted the urge to do a gig as she smiled up at the three men looking down at her as if wondering while she was smiling so broadly. The only thing she had to do now was find out where they had stashed her bag.

Emily cleared her throat almost conversationally, "Erm… Fellas?" She asked nervously, avoiding Elladan's furious and disgusted eyes, and deliberately not looking at Elrohir's apologetic ones, instead fixing her weird mix of blue and green eyes to Glorfindel. He looked down at her almost encouragingly, although his eyes were still hard, "Can I use the bathroom?" She asked, an innocent smile on her face as she stared fixedly at Glorfindel, if she looked at Elladan he'd see right through her and the gig would definitely be up.

Glorfindel smiled at her, and Emily probably thought he believed her to be co-operating for once. "Of course, let me untie your-" He motioned for her hands but saw they were already untied. And he cast a questioning glance to Elrohir before turning back to Emily all smiles, "Well, Sarah if you just follow me I'll-"

Emily cut him off, keeping the innocent smile on her face, "Could I possibly get something from my bag?" She asked, using the burning in her cheeks due to the fear of being caught, to her advantage of being embarrassed. "I have to get something to, erm, well you see I-"

Glorfindel's cheeks reddened and he seemed to find it hard to look her in the eye, buying her lie, "Yes. No of course, we shouldn't have- Well it was…I'll just get you the bag..." He stammered, rushing off behind some trees and coming back a while later with her bag in his hands.

Emily waited for him to put the bag on her lap, resisted the urge to snatch it from him, and hissing in pain from the wounds on her wrists that didn't seem to want to begin to heal. She zipped open the bag and sighed in relief at finding everything where they were supposed to be, in neat folded squares and little toiletry bags. She grinned up at the men, who all seemed to smile and turn the other way, each of their cheeks reddened in the realisation of what she needed to get out of the bag.

As soon as their backs were turned, the innocent expression on her face died and Emily began to bite her lip once more, rummaging around until she found a tampon she wouldn't need to use, and felt the reassuring and hopeful cool metal case of her phone at the bottom of the bag. She almost cried with relief before she stuffed it in her pocket, clearing her throat to say she was done.

As the men turned around, she made a show of looking innocent and embarrassed and fumbling around to try and put the tampon in a pocket. Glorfindel smiled at her, and motioned for her to follow him in the opposite direction of where the 'toilet' was the night before. He led her off into the right, and they walked for two minutes again before he found a big enough tree, crouching down like Elrohir had the night before, handing her a couple big faced leafs from his pocket.

She grinned at him, "Thanks Mr. Glorfindel." She said as she walked towards her side of the tree, "You're helping more than you know."She added her eyes large with thanks.

For the first thirty seconds she made another show of trying to find the tampon, cursing loudly and trying to unwrap it from its hiding place, cursing many times all the while trying to fish her phone out of her back pocket. Once acquired she waved a hand over it, to turn it on, pressing a thumb down on the pad so that the phone knew it was her. While she waited for the screen to load, and muttered loudly that she wasn't sure which leaf to use, and pushed her foot down I the soil to make it sound like she was rifling thought the set of leaves Mr. Glorfindel had given her for the appropriate one to use.

She stopped with that for a moment, still nervously pushing her foot around while she whispered "Call Mother" Into her phone. It was then that she spent ten gruelling seconds hearing the dialling tone before someone picked up.

"Hello?" Came the nervous voice from her mom, it had a lilt to it, as though she were frightened as well.

"Mom?" Emily whispered desperately, aware of the well over six foot man that was standing just a couple of feet behind the tree she was supposedly peeing behind. "Mom can you hear me?"

"Emily?" He mom asked in relief, "Baby I've been so worried, where are you? Are you okay?"

"Mom-mom, calm down. I'm fine." She said, and it wasn't completely a lie, if those guys had wanted to kill her, they probably would have done it by now, or maybe she should count their blessing that they forgot to. There was something odd about the men, and not just because they were too tall, too willowy and too beautiful to ever be considered as a normal human being. "Listen. You need to ring the police and say that I-"

"Sarah?" Mr. Glorfindel's uncertain voice called out, "Who are you talking to?"

Emily breathed in deeply twice, it was either run, or stay and face the consequences. Weighing her options she was acutely aware of her mother's voice in her ear, asking who that man was and where she was. Hearing her mother's tone, her flight instincts kicked in and she was off at a galloping pace, dodging trees and trying to jump overgrowth on the forest floor.

"Mom?" She shouted, not caring if the man behind her heard. She was sure she could hear calls behind her, but the voices brushed over her head as she forced herself to listen to her mother's voice only. "Listen, mom you have to-" She gave a cry as she tripped over a tree root and fell over, her hands smacking painfully against the forest floor and her phone flying just in front of her.

Without her mother's voice, she could definitely hear the men behind her, running after her with gusto, while she scrambled forward to grab her phone and stumble to her feet, starting at a run again, a distinctive burn in her left ankle while she began to shout into her phone, "MOM?" She asked, sighing in between deep breaths as she ran forward not quite knowing where she was going, if she was going further into the forest lit by the morning sunlight, or if she was heading to the outskirts towards a road where she could flag down a car.

The footsteps behind her were getting quicker, as were they getting closer, and which each footfall that got closer her heart gave another painfully loud thump in her chest, as if she didn't already feel the danger pumping through her veins as she tried to run away.

"Honey? Honey I can't hear you, where are you? Are you safe? Who are you with? Did they hurt you?" Her mother was hurling questions at her, while she tried to dodge low tree branches, tried to jump over tree roots, all the while trying to find an exit point in the forest. God, she thought absently, with all this multitasking I guess no one can claim I'm not a woman.

"Mom. Stop just listen to me, I'm coming home. Look These guys they've taken me, and one of them is-"

Her mom interrupted her, flinging questions at her left right and centre at the fact that she had sad men had taken her. Emily was pushing herself to the limits, her twisted ankle from earlier burning with every step. She was trying to calm her mother, all the while looking around her to see the familiar pale features of the men, but what caught her eye instead was an opening through the trees and the nearer she got to it, the more her feet seemed to hurry her home. "Mom, listen don't worry, I'm coming home, okay? I'll be home. I love you." She said as an afterthought, dodging what she thought to be a low tree branch, but what was in reality a pale fingered hand. She stifled at gasp and put her last energy reserves into reaching the edge of the forest.

Breaking through the trees she stumbled blindly onto a tarmac road, debating for a second which way to turn. But, lady luck seemed to want to play games with her, and the moment she got into the road, a hand clamped around her shoulder pulling her back roughly, a motion to which she outstretched her elbow then pulled it back, enjoying the feel of the soft tissue pushing inwards. There was a sharp gasp then the hand fell away from her shoulder, she didn't bother turn back to see who she had winded, but instead turned right and began running again.

She could see a sign up ahead, and a main road, which looked suspiciously like a motorway with cars passing by quickly. If she could only get there then she would be okay. As she tried to put more speed into her feet, a sleek black car turned off the main road and sped down the street she was running down. She could have cried when she saw it and stumbled her way towards it, waving a hand in the air to signal it down, deafly hearing her mother tell her she loved her too on the phone still pressed to her cheek.

What happened next Emily didn't really fully understand till she had mulled over it for a few days. And that was that three things happened at once. She was almost to the car when a hand clamped around her arm and casting a harrowed glance to her right she realised it was Mr. Glorfindel. Not knowing what to do, she kicked out, nicking him in the shin making his hold on her arm loosen. The second thing that happened was the car spinning around suddenly, its door flinging open and once again Emily couldn't even begin to count her luck. The third thing that happened and what confused her greatly later was that her feet seemed to be swept out from underneath her; the phone had been taken from her hand and thrown into the edge of the trees her mother voice still audible. Whoever had her legs now pushed her forward, throwing her head first into the car and jumping in behind her. Another person jumped into the front seat and she vaguely heard the driver's door open and close; someone getting out and someone else getting in while a voice yelled: "Gun it!" Before a cloth was shoved into her face and all escape thoughts evaded her as the only thing she wanted to do at that moment was rest.

* * *

Emily awoke to the smell of leather and hushed voices. By the sound of it, the people with the hushed voices were pissed off about something, and, rather than wake up, Emily decided to listen instead.

"…Should have never happened." Someone was saying, "Completely stupid to have believed her. It just proves who and what she's working for. We can't trust her." The person finished venom in their voice and Emily guessed it was the twin who seemed to hate her with a passion.

"Now, Elladan, that's not completely right. If you were in her position, wouldn't you what to escape to?" Asked another voice, and Emily noted that the twin who seemed to hate her so much was in fact named Elladan. Emily very nearly snorted, what a pompous name for such a pompous idiotic man, she thought.

"Elrohir, I do not understand why you make excuses for her." Elladan replied, his voice so harsh and even Emily felt the need to flinch for his brother. "It is obvious who she is and we should not trust her. Are you so fool hearted that you would trust any maiden that would come your way?" Elladan asked, a sneer in his voice.

"You dare call me a fool?" Elrohir hissed back, his voice was coming from near to her head, and she assumed that he was the one who had thrown her into the car. At the closeness of the heat coming from what she assumed to be his leg, she was sure he had turned her around so that her hands were as far from the door handles as possible…But that was only a guess. "I am no fool, brother, but you are quick to judge and quick to anger and my patience with you is wearing thin."

"Men, calm down. You are brother's, not enemy's." Another voice said, and by process of elimination, Emily deduced that that was Mr. Glorfindel. "This girl is nothing to cause a rift between two who have been together for so long." He stated, and Emily felt a little miffed at the fact he had called her 'nothing'. And what in the world were they talking about? Not to be trusted, who she was working for? She worked for Topshop as a temp. That was about as far as her work experience went. "I will admit that she doesn't seem like the prophecy, but they told us not to trust her. That doesn't mean that we have to be downright frosty with her." Emily got the distinct impression that Glorfindel had hurled that one at Elladan.

It was silent for a while before a voice piped up, "I don't think we were given all of the information." Glorfindel muttered, so lowly Emily wondered how she even picked it up. "All they told us what that the girl had to be found and taken to the ships as it was the utmost importance." He paused, "I got the distinct impression that Estel didn't want to worry us."

"Which in turn makes us worry more." Elladan mumbled, sighing.

"Either way, we have a week and a half journey, in a car with all of us together. If we don't learn how to at least tolerate each other, this will never work and by the Vala, they will all have our heads." Elrohir concluded, and, assuming the discussion was finished, Emily pondered over what they had said. It was obvious to her that whatever Sarah had gotten herself into, it was some heavy duty shit. From the real gleaming steel swords, to the real gleaming tunics that the men wore, she got the distinct impression they all thought they belonged to another time.

Either that or they were those freaks who played battle quest in massive fields and pretended they were warriors from the middle ages. She almost laughed, judging by their dress and the fact that they were continuously waving their swords about, this was in fact, one of those games that had gotten stupidly out of control.

Elrohir was watching the girl as she slept, his eyed narrowed and his brow creased as he tried to figure out what exactly she was. As if sensing his thoughts Emily sighed and stretched out her arms, startling all three of the men in the car.

"In all honesty if you wanted to talk, there's such a thing as whispering." She said, sitting up stiffly from where she was indeed lying down with her head next to Elrohir's lap. She immediately scooted towards the far edge of the car, nearer towards her car door and she wondered absently how fast they were going and whether or not she would survive jumping out of a full speeding car.

She hadn't realised that Elladan was staring at her in contempt, "Try it." He said nodding towards the door, "Break a couple of bones. We'll only drag you back into the car and keep on driving." Emily frowned at him, it seemed that whatever they had thought she said yesterday was taking its toll on Elladan. Although Emily didn't know how one word could make him hate her so intensely.

She shied away from the door, blushing as she watched the smug expression roll onto Elladan's face. "Where are we going?" She asked after a minute or two of staring at her bruised and cut hands. Her right ankle was stinging and she knew now that she had probably sprained it.

"We told you, we are going to the-" Glorfindel began.

"Yeah, yeah, we're going to the ships. But _why_ are we going to the ships?" She asked, she was a little curious as to why these men seemed so hell bent on taking her to these damn ships on the Maryland coast.

"It's complicated." Elrohir murmured from beside her, but she wouldn't look at him and when she answered, she stared at the darkened window instead of look at him.

"Complicated my ass. More complicated by those things chasing me?" She asked suddenly, remembering the night of her abduction. Glorfindel sighed, and Emily scoffed. "What, you think I forgot?" She asked with a bitter laugh. "No. I haven't forgotten how you killed them brutally then proceeded to hit me over the head with something that very likely easily weighed half a ton."

"…It wasn't more than a few kilos…" Elrohir muttered quietly, and when Emily _did_ turn to look at him, he had his back to her and was staring out of his window resolutely.

Emily rolled her eyes, fixing her eyes on Elladan's turned head, "So who are you guys anyway? Mercenaries? Vigilantes? What happened, did my dad accidently screw you over?" She asked, in a very Sarah like manor. In all honesty, were she in any other situation, she would have patted herself on the back at doing such a good job.

"Your father has nothing to do with this." Elladan murmured although even his voice was weary.

Glorfindel sighed, taken one hand off the wheel to run it over his hair, "Look, Sarah we do not know. Okay?"

"No. Not okay. I want to know who the hell you are." She said, her voice hardening just how she imagined Sarah's would in this situation.

She felt Elrohir shift on the leather seats beside her, "You want to know who we are?" He asked shaking his head as if she were making a mistake.

"Elrohir do you really think-"

Emily cut off Glorfindel with a shushing noise while nodding at Elrohir. Elrohir in turn rolled his eyes and proceeded to untie his hair from its band. Although what the hair had to do with anything she had no idea.

Elrohir pushed his hair around his head, smoothing it down before tucking a strand behind his ear to show the pointed fleshy tip of the ear, at which point Emily fainted for a little while, a little ungracefully if she did say so herself, although she couldn't because she had fainted.

"I told you not to." Glorfindel muttered, glancing back into the rear mirror to watch as Elrohir scooped her up from the car floor and laid her back down on the seat.

It was some time before Emily woke up again, her muscles having hurt from her awkward position, when she finished rolling her shoulders, she looked around the car in confusion, the car had stopped and though she couldn't see outside, she could hear the tank being filled up with petrol.

The only person who was in the car with her was Elrohir, and he was looking at her wearily as though he thought she'd faint any second. Emily laughed nervously, looking at him, "I'm really confused…"She began, "I had a dream that you had pointy ears…Like a little Santa's helper." She said, her eyes wide; because in all honesty, it may have been a dream, but it didn't _feel_ like one.

Elrohir sighed and tucked some hair behind his ear once more, clearly showing off the fact that his ear was not rounded like a normal being, they were in fact, pointed. This must be a joke, she thought hurriedly, it's obviously fake. But the sick thing was that Emily couldn't see where the fake ear began and the real ear ended, to which she gave a stifled sob and shot away from him, her back banging painfully on the door. She turned around suddenly, thumping on the window with her fists.

"Let me out!" She shouted, kicking the door with her knees, "Please let me out! This man has- Oh God he thinks he's a-"As that realisation hit, she began to bang on the window even more, slapping her nails against the glass causing them to break and pierce her skin so much so that when Elrohir finally managed to grab hold of her hands to stop her hurting herself, there was a smudge coating of blood on the window, and not one dent.

He pulled Emily's hands towards him, inspecting the damage done and tutting at the extent of it all, ignoring the curses and insults she threw at him.

"You're a fucking freak!" She exclaimed, attempting to pull her hands away from his vice like grips. She didn't succeed and all she managed to do was pull open the wounds on her wrists which caused her to hiss and stop moving, all the while never taking her eyes away from his ear.

"Why would you do that to yourself? Did it not like, freaking hurt?" She asked, staring at him in disbelief. She had heard of the die hard fans, but this was something else. Altering your own _body parts_, to fit in with whatever book or religion or freakin' comic book they seemed to worship? That was a step to far. _Way_ to far.

Elrohir sighed, and looked up quickly from inspecting her fingers, "No, maiden, they did not hurt. They are real, so why would they hurt?" He looked back down at her hands, grimacing at the state of her wrists and at the bruises already appearing on her hands.

Emily laughed suddenly, loud and harrowing and half panicked and crazed, "You are so funny." She stated trying to catch her breath while Elrohir looked at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. Maybe it was better than facing the fact that those ears did look awfully real. "They can't be real." She stated again, sobering up. Elrohir rolled his eyes, transferring both of her wrists to one of his hands while he reached up to lightly push and pull the tip of his ear.

"Does that look real enough for you?" He asked, moving his hand to gently hold her hand in his again, looking at her broken nails and wondering how on earth she had managed to do that in an enclosed car.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Emily muttered, shaking her head. "This isn't real. This can't be real." She kept muttering, her face ashen and her eyes wide, staring at Elrohir's ears as if they were the holy grail. "Can I touch them?" She asked suddenly, biting her lip, curiosity getting the better of her.

Elrohir blushed for some reason, dropping her hands into her lap while Emily looked on questioningly, "Your hands are bloody." He stated, and Emily rolled her eyes and wiped her hands roughly onto her jeans, succeeding in taking off some of the dirt and blood. Elrohir blushed again, looking extremely uncomfortable, "Its not that I don't want you to touch…Its just that well…The ears of an elf-"

"Wait I'm sorry, the ears of a what?" She asked her face scrunching up.

"Of an elf." He stated bluntly, watching as his words sunk in and Emily swayed precariously. "Don't faint, please." He added, holding up his hands on either side of her as a barricade just in case she did.

"I'm not…I'm not going to faint." She said, looking at him again and this time her face had a distinctive green quality about it. "You aren't an elf." She declared, absently wondering why on earth she was having an argument, let alone this argument with her kidnaper.

"Yes I am." He replied, smiling a little at her expression. He was sure he was breaking all the rules, but she would meet more elves on the ship so he supposed he may as well tell her the basics of what she was getting into. "I am an elf, and these are my ears." He spoke slowly, as if talking to a child with mental problems and Emily scowled at his tone of voice.

"Okay. Say you were an elf, and I'm not saying you are." She began, "And your ears are real….Can I touch one?" She asked, her foot tapping restlessly against the car floor, once again Elrohir blushed. "Look, if you don't want to you don't have to its just-"

"No. No maiden I do not…particularly mind, it is just that…Say I am an elf." He said, and Emily nodded.

"Hypothetically speaking." She said.

"Yes, hypothetically, say I was an elf, and I had my ears, which I do. And elf's ears are very sensitive, both to pain and to….other things." He ended his explanation hurriedly and Emily hardly got what he was saying.

"What do you mean sensitive to pain and 'other' things?" She asked, her eyes confused, and she hadn't realised that she had slowly been getting closer to the man/elf while he talked; such was the lulling of his tones, even when he was blushing so furiously.

"I mean…In sexual terms…Our ears are very…arousing." He struggled to find the right word and ended this latest explanation on an uncertain note.

Emily was resisting the urge to laugh, so not only was this man convinced he was an elf, he also had a fetish about ears? "So…What you're saying is that all elves have an obsession with ears and that if I touch it too hard or stroke it for too long then you may be in danger of getting…excited?" She asked, finishing with a loud laugh, which had been the only true laugh of her journey all the while Elrohir was blushing madly, his eyes looking anyway but her own.

"Yes." He replied softly, his cheeks on fire.

"Well Elrohir, I never pegged you for an ear fetish kinda guy. But you know, whatever gets you off." She said with Sarah's signature smirk, to which Elrohir scowled and narrowed his eyes.

"Look, if you're going to touch it, then touch it and hurry up about it." He muttered, turning his head to the side.

"You know," She began, "If anyone was to hear our conversation, they'd think we were talking about a lot more than your ears." She said absentmindedly, reaching up a hand to touch his ear while Elrohir scowled.

"Just hurry up." He said again, waiting for the contact but it never came. He turned to face her confusedly, only to find her eyes welling up with tears.

"I believe you about the ears. But not about being an elf. I can't- You can't expect me to believe that…No. I _refuse_." She said forcefully, turning her head away from Elrohir's and shrugging off his hand when he put it on her shoulder, trying to get her to turn around.

Elrohir sighed and listened to the approaching footsteps of his brother and Glorfindel. The passenger door flung open and Glorfindel slipped in, Elladan opened the driver's side and put his hands on the wheel, "My turn." He said, a grin on his lips and even Elrohir couldn't help but chuckle at is brother's eagerness. Elladan shoved his foot on the gas, and the car vaulted forwards, Emily having to hold onto the door handle to keep from smacking into the seat in front of her, mumbling insults as she did.

Glorfindel turned around in his seat, smiling sheepishly as he looked at her, and then in confusion as he looked at her window. "What in Arda happened?" He asked.

"She saw my ears and wanted to get out, obviously the only way she knows how to get out of an unlocked car is to try and break the window. I blame recent films if I may be so bold." Elrohir answered for her, his voice nonchalant and Emily watched as Glorfindel's face turned from worry into a grin and he tried to suppress his laughter.

He shook his head, "Ah, Sarah." He chuckled holding out a white bag, "You have not eaten in about three days." He stated again, looking at bit embarrassed.

"Yeah. No shit Sherlock." She muttered, cautiously snatching the bag away from him. And shoving a hand in, not taking her eyes away from Glorfindel's stupidly intense green ones, so intense that Emily's began to water as she delve into the bag with gusto. Her hand clamping around a plastic wrapper containing something. She pulled it out of the bag, curiosity getting the better of her long enough for her to look down and gasp as what was clutched between her fingers.

"Twinkie!" She almost shouted, her voice excited, and it was then that she noticed the rumbling in her stomach at the sight of food. It was almost crippling the way her stomach lurched as if it would eat the Twinkie whole, wrapper included. Emily's mouth watered as she ripped the wrapper off and grinned at Glorfindel, her stomach churning in anticipation for the up and coming food.

And thus it was seven Twinkie bars, two sandwiches, three bottles of coke, two bags of chips and a doughnut later when Emily finally finished eating, staring in triumph at Glorfindel, revelling in the feeling of her stomach sated and her nerves soothed somewhat. Glorfindel was staring at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief and not a little disgust. "…How did you manage to fit all that food in your stomach?" He asked horrified.

"Well. To be honest, it's your fault for starving me." She replied, a blush on her cheeks at having basically eaten her weigh in just under half an hour. Glorfindel shook his head and turned back around in his seat to look out of the windshield, Elrohir chuckling behind him.

"We didn't starve you." Elladan's voice cut over his brother's laughter, "You just neglected to tell us you were hungry and wake up when we made dinner." He pointed out, a smirk in his voice.

Emily narrowed her eyes to the drivers chair in front of her, glaring at the seats back as though she could burn a hole directly into Elladan's head. "Where are we going?" She snapped, "It must be night by now."

"We are going to a motel to where we will sleep for tonight." Came Glorfindel's reply, and he turned back in some mild shock as he watched Emily smile as though she had seen heaven.

"A bed?" She sighed happily, sitting back against her seat. "I get a bed." She said again smiling, while Elrohir laughed at her obvious joy in the simple thing such as a bed.

"Yes, Sarah, you get a bed," Elladan said, his voice half annoyed, although it sounded as though he was trying to hide his mirth. "Although I think you should be happier about a shower." He continued, "You're starting to smell like a pig in heat."

Silence followed his snide insult and Glorfindel indefinitely turned his head to look out of his window, he wasn't getting involved in this fight. Elrohir shifted uncomfortably beside Emily, trying to hide his grin while he tried to look disapprovingly at his brother- He was failing…miserably.

Finally, Emily spoke, "…Are you calling me fat?" She asked, horrified, "And a whore?" Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open in shock as she stared at the back of the drivers seat in front of her, turning her shocked gaze to Elrohir in time to see his resolve break and see him burst out into a fit of laughter. She frowned, looking towards the front of the car, only to see Mr. Glorfindel's shoulders shake with barely stifled laughter, and looked into the rear-view mirror, only to see Elladan fighting off a grin. She turned back to the loudly laughing Elrohir and asked confusedly, "What? What did I say?"

* * *

**Le Hannon**- _Thank you_

Have no fear! The next chapter shall be here soon! I haven't stopped writing, its just I've been away in the Caribbean for a month (: And have just gotten back to good exam results and horrible weather aha thank you for staying with me as I have written this, and again, the next chapter shall be here soon!


	5. Chapter 4

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer**: Seriously guys, don't own anything, it all belongs to Tolkien and his amazing mind, although Sarah and Emily come from my somewhat alarming imagination !

**A/N**: Told you this chapter would come soon ! Also, this is the last chapter of the journey to the ships, I cannot be bothered with dragging it out, because I want to get to the good bits, aha, anyways, enjoy my dears, don't forget to review and thank you for reading this far ! Also this chapter is shorter and moves at such a fast pace, I kinda dislike the beginning, but hey, what can ya do? I'll go back and re-write it later probably Also! One more thing, I know its probably a bit far fetched to think Elrohir may let her touch his ears, but come on, cut me some slack, I'm allowed little bits of far fetched-ness once in a while aha Up until now its been pretty normal (; aha anyways, enjoy! xx

* * *

Elladan had pulled into a gas station, proclaiming that whatever motel they found, he wasn't eating a bit of their food so it was best to get something pre-packaged from the service station. With murmurs of agreement from the other three men, Elladan had chosen a service station that looked the most modern and least rat infested, while Mr. Glorfindel suggested that Emily go with the two brothers to buy the food, giving her a chance to stretch her legs. Giving her former teacher an odd look, Emily dwelled on the thoughts that really, her captives were treating her quite well. There was no barbed wire around her ankles, and no shackles on her wrists, although the cuts on her wrists refused to heal for more than an hour at a time.

While she was thinking of her predicament, her door was wrenched open and a hard face looked down at her, she guessed it was Elladan by the way his eyes seemed to spark with anger, and the tightness of his hand around her upper arm when his hand clamped around it as he dragged her out of the car, Elrohir coming up on her right side to grip her other arm, pulling her along while Elladan hissed orders into her ear.

"Number one, you will not try to escape. Number two, you will not try to escape. Number three, you will not, and this is where I must repeat myself, try to escape." He said, dragging her none too gently into the severely lit up shop, so bright were its lights in fact that Emily shut her eyes for a moment, feeling the stinging of the fluorescent lights all the way down to her toes.

"Alright, alright already." She huffed opening her eyes and wrenching her arm away from the angrier twin, not particularly minding either way if Elrohir let go of her arm or not. He did. Softly letting her arm fall back to her sides, "No escape. I understand." She murmured, already walking towards the magazine stand.

Elladan and his brother watched her go, noting with mild fascination as her features lit up as she flicked through fashion mag. "Girls and their toys." He muttered, turning in this opposite direction, leaving Elrohir to look after Emily while he hunted for food.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Elladan was towing a food laden Emily to the counter, practically throwing her at it, and giving her the credit card to pay for it. After turning around to glare at the hostile brother, Emily switched her attention to the elderly woman on the counter, smiling kindly at her, and it occurred to Emily what a state she must look to the woman. Not escape my bloody ass, Emily thought, I have to get home, and soon, before we reach those damn ships. She almost laughed out loud, if they're even real, she thought sarcastically.

"Hey there honey, is this all you want?." The woman drawled in a thick southern accent, it made Emily think about all the grandmothers she had seen and watched on television throughout the years, and how half of them had been southern and so nice looking. The woman in front of her fitted the description of 'southern hospitality'. From her greying blonde hair pulled back into a lose bun, to the pale pink apron she wore over a floral dress. The woman seemed to scream 'grandmother material' at Emily, and she unconsciously looked down to read the woman's name tag 'Pamela'. What a lovely, ordinary, grandmother name, she thought. Emily's obsession with grandmother's had been growing for years, after the realisation that both her parent's parents had died before she and her sister were born, and the revelation that both her parents were in fact, only children which meant she had no cousins, came the early thoughts of loneliness. The five psychiatrists she used to see blamed the fact that she had no outside family other than her immediate for the fact that she 'made up', a grandmother after taunts and teases from other children. It took therapy and two years supply of anti-psychotic drugs for the psychiatrists, her parents, and even her own sister to drill into her head that she had no 'nana'.

Emily's reminiscent thoughts were cut severely short when a particularly hard jab to her side pushed the boundaries of her ribs and she gave a hiss of pain, glaring at Elladan out of the corner of her eye, "Er. Yeah, that'll be all of it." She murmured, rubbing at her side and confusedly noting the equally confused look the grandmotherly woman shot at her. While the woman rung up the purchases Emily deftly ignored Elladan's and Elrohir's talk, feeling a wave of fatigue hit her from somewhere.

"That'll be fifty-four, ninety-nine." The woman said with a kind smile, holding out the package for Emily to take. When Emily had successfully picked up the bag without dropping anything, she deftly put it on the ground next to her feet, slipping out the credit card Elladan had previously given her.

"Erm…Do you take," Emily glanced down at the card, "HuningsCard?" She asked, absently remembering Hunings was a prosperous bank, having sprung up after the collapse of the early twenty-first century favourite 'MasterCard', in 2056.

"Why yes dear we do, all you near to do is hold it over the search pad and then sign the interactive paper." She said helpfully, indicating and picking up the virtual notebook which was often used for signatures.

Signatures! Emily very nearly screamed inside her head, my god I'm so dumb; she chastised herself. If she had to convey a message to the woman, why not just write it on the goddamn interactive screen? She sighed, smiling at the woman, trying to convey with her eyes that there were two potentially dangerous men standing behind her who had kidnapped her, killed some things with shiny swords, starved her for three days, and told her she smelled bad. From the baffled look the woman gave her in return, she deduced that her 'conveying' skills obviously needed some work. Hard work.

Emily took the interactive screen from the woman, hunching her shoulders as to shield her writing from the elves as she scrawled a hasty message onto the screen: _kidnapped by two men behind me, held at knife point, call 987-556, help. please_. She handed back the screen to the woman with a pleadingly hopeful look in her eyes, as she was tried to ignore Elladan's glare fixated on her face, and Elrohir's hand hovering over her upper arm.

The woman took the screen with a kind smile, until she looked down and red the note Emily had given her, and a small frown landed on her brow. Emily's hopes of rescue were quickly dashed out the window as the woman regarded her in a sad, sympathetic almost pitying way. "Honeybee…"She paused, obviously wondering how to put it, "Honey there aren't two men behind you." She sad kindly, lowering her voice. Emily's eyes widened and she looked at the woman as though she were crazy.

"No! What are you talking about?" She practically screamed while Elladan clamped a hard hand around her arm while Elrohir slapped money down on the counter, "They're right behind me! Please, please you have to believe me." She pleaded, trying in vain to get out of Elladan's hold while Elrohir picked up the food bag with a hard face.

"Honey…There are people who can help you…But there are no men behind you." The woman sad, biting her bottom lip in a worrying way. "Is there someone I can call? This number on the screen is it okay? I can- hey! Hey _wait_!" She called after her, watching in confusion as the girl marched out of the gas station, seemingly being dragged out by some unseen force.

Emily was crying hysterically, not even bothering to try and struggle out of Elladan's rough hands and she barely heard the exchange of words between the two brothers as Elladan told Elrohir to drive. In all honesty, she didn't even see the concerned glances Glorfindel threw at her, and she didn't feel the bruise forming on her arm as Elladan shoved her inside the car, slamming his door shut and yelling at Elrohir to start the car. Somewhere along the line she knew she started screaming, banging on the windows and kicking the doors as Elrohir drove, and in the back of her mind she knew it was a futile attempt at trying to escape but she _had_ to! She had to get back home, to warn Sarah that these men were after her.

Elladan had tried restraining her arms, but she would just keep screaming, in the end when they heard the crunch of bone as she kicked the seat in front of her too hard, Glorfindel had had enough and he turned around in his seat placing a hand to her forehead and watched in satisfaction as her body slumped and the car reigned in silence.

"And so the elves will fade…" Muttered Elladan, his voice bitter as he regarded the sleeping Emily, moving her into a more comfortable position in a moment of compassion. He took her foot in his lap and removed some bandages from the bag at his feet, quickly applying some balm and binding her foot knowing she wouldn't be able to walk on it but it would at least be numb. Elrohir sighed from his position driving, regarding his brother in the rear-view mirror as he bound the girl's foot.

* * *

"We are here." Elrohir said quietly, pulling into a motel that looked at least relatively clean out of all the ones they had passed on their journey. He looked at the clock in the car, it was nearing eleven o'clock and he sighed once again, this quest/journey whatever it is was off to a bad start. From the looks of things, Sarah was probably loosing her mind and Elladan was so close to hitting her it was stupidly too close for comfort. Glorfindel seemed to be the only calm one and himself? Well, Elrohir seemed to be torn between mistrust and trust. He used to be so good at judging characters, but this girl? She was…Horribly hard to read. It was as if- well, for fear of sounding crazy, it was as if she were two people in one body.

He was mulling over these thoughts for some time before he realised his brother, Sarah and Glorfindel had all gotten out of the car. A half asleep Sarah being unceremoniously carried by an annoyed Elladan while Glorfindel tapped on Elrohir's window. Elrohir sighed, shut down the car and opened his door, stepping out into the cool night breeze while Elladan got them a room.

"You will stay with Sarah in the room while Elladan and I stay watch outside." Glorfindel said quietly, walking after Elladan who was balancing a rousing Sarah and a room key in the shape of a palm tree in the other hand. Elrohir looked up at the motel, it was fairly modern, with peach washed walls and brown doors, from where he stood he deemed the place to have about twenty rooms, and from his hearing about half of them were occupied. The freeways lights shined in the distance and the trees swayed slightly in the breeze, it had been far too long since he had heard their songs and Elrohir could hardly stifle the childish excitement that bubbled up when he thought of going home all too soon. Seeing his Naneth and Ada again surely made up for his prolonged stay in Arda, or as the men now called it, Earth.

"Elrohir?" Glorfindel asked quietly, watching the younger twins face as he came out of his thoughts and his smile faded slightly, "Come now, you must stay with her." Glorfindel Said, motioning for the door Elladan had just gone into.

"Why me?" Elrohir asked curiously, following Glorfindel into the ground level room and watched with a grin as Elladan dropped Sarah ungraciously on the bed, serving to wake her up from her slumber.

"She seems to trust you the most." Was Glorfindel's only reply as he patted the twin on the back and turned left towards a copse of trees. If anything came after them, Glorfindel would know first. Elrohir looked around the room with particular distaste, there was a smell in the room like stale bread, and the lights were dimming although the two beds looked relatively clean and the cream sheets upon them had a faint vanilla smell wafting off them. There was a small desk with a phone on top of it, a phone which Elladan was just finishing snipping off the wires connecting it to the mainframe.

"I took all her phones out of her bag and gave them to Glorfindel, she won't be able to contact anyone." He said, glancing over his shoulder at the girl glaring at them and rifling through her bag that Elladan had given her. "Sleep well brother, I will be outside the door." He added the last bit a little louder as a warning to Sarah, but the girl was too preoccupied trying to figure out what was missing from her bag to notice. Elrohir grinned at his brother and pulled him in for an embrace, "You too brother, goodnight." Elladan smiled at his brother before pulling away and walking out the door, shutting the door firmly behind him. Elrohir sighed and turned back to the seemingly fuming girl.

"Where's my phone?" She growled and Elrohir was mildly amused to say she sounded as harmless as little Chihuahua when she tried to act menacing.

"What phone? The one you tried to club me with on the way here?" He asked conversationally, knowing it would annoy her and for his further amusement as he took a seat on the bed closest to the door, noting another door in the room which was half open, he could see it was a bathroom and it looked fairly clean as well, all white washed walls and tiled floors unlike the pale carpet of the bedroom.

"I never tried to club you. You were trying to re-kidnap me so it was self defence." She replied indignantly, sniffing slightly and pulling out random soap bottles and shampoo and a clean change of clothes. "Thank god for Dana's house," She muttered as Elrohir's head shot up confusedly.

"Dana?" He asked looking at her closely, "Is that not Emily's friend? Your sister?" He asked watching her body stiffen; she blinked a few times and suddenly found the patterns of her bed sheets fascinating.

"Yes…Yes she is Emily's friend…She uh, she gave me these…Bottles of shampoo for Christmas last year. So I was just saying thank god to her for her generosity…" She trailed off and Elrohir frowned at her his eyes narrowed, "I think I'll go have that shower now." She muttered and jumped down on the bed, only to fall down as her left foot wouldn't move. She looked down at her foot which had been bandaged pretty tightly, and from the odd feel of odd bone sliding against bone, she knew she had broken her ankle somehow. Oddly enough it didn't hurt, what did hurt though, was the rough hauling up Elrohir gave her as he pulled her to her feet.

"You broke your ankle when you tried to destroy the car." He stated plainly, putting an arm around her waist and guiding her to the bathroom. "Just don't put any weight on it and you'll be fine." He added, practically shoving her into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

Emily leaned her back against the closed door behind her, breathing deeply and silently cursing, all the while trying to ignore the fact that her ankle was broken yet she could feel nothing; also trying to ignore the fact that she had almost let on to the fact that she wasn't exactly who she had led them to believe she was. Well, they never asked, she reasoned, so technically I haven't lied, just neglected to correct their mistake. All of her reassurance's landed on death ears though as she dropped her things on the floor, and turning on the shower, she could have cried, she seriously needed that shower. She looked in the mirror above the sink and very nearly gasped, she looked horrible. Two bruises on her forehead, scratches on her cheek, scabs forming on her neck, she didn't even need to look down at her wrists to know they were in a state. Her clothes were dirty and stunk of three days without washing; her broken ankle looked awful and limp as she put all her weight onto the other foot. Tearing her face away from the horrible sight before her she sighed once more and stripped down and stepping into the shower and turning on the hot water full blast. Emily let out a heavy breath, if she thought really hard, and blocked out all thoughts, she could almost imagine that she wasn't crazy and that the men who had kidnapped her weren't invisible one moment and visible the next.

She lathered shampoo into her hands and got to work on the tangle and matted thing that was the current state of her hair. While working the soap through her tangled waves she fought back tears as she realised that indeed, she was mentally ill. Obviously something had gone wrong with her hardwiring, and now she was running around telling poor old ladies that men had kidnapped her. But the thing was, she couldn't be. She still knew what the square root of fifty-six was. And knew all the names of the former presidents dating back to 1802. She still had her brain, so she couldn't be insane. Only, that was the only explanation she could find for Elladan appearing and reappearing.

The old lady at the shop, Pamela, she hadn't seen Elrohir or Elladan, yet, in her half asleep state, Emily had specifically remembered the woman at the front desk of the motel flirting with Elladan while she gave him a discount if he promised to come see her later. It made no sense, how on earth could she see them if they were invisible? Or maybe she was invisible? But if she and they were invisible how did the woman on the front desk see them? And if- Emily had to stop her thoughts before she either passed out, got a sever migraine, or worse, both. She was going around in circles, her thoughts leading her no-where and getting her nothing.

Emily let her hands swing loosely by her sides as she let the water wash the soap out of her hair. She lifted her head up and let the water run down her face, willing it to wash away her problems as well. She didn't know how long she stood there, under the water, letting it wash the soap off her body first, and then finally letting it wash away some of her fear. Finally it was the two sharp raps on the door which eventually pulled her out of her reverie.

"Yeah?" She called out uncertainly, almost forgetting where she was and who she was with, a fact that she had to thank the water for forcefully.

"Are you okay in there Sarah? I just heard the water running and I-"

Sarah stepped out of the shower, careful to only step on her good foot while she cut Elrohir off, "Thought I had tried to escape? No, genius, I'm still here." She said, quickly drying and pulling on the clean clothes she had gotten out of her bag. Tying the towel around her head she walked out of the bathroom, limping badly and practically running Elrohir over in her haste to get to her bed. The sensation of bone against bone while not feeling any pain made Emily feel queasy and the sooner she got off the foot, the better. "No idiot would try to escape with a broken ankle, even if it doesn't hurt." She said as she ungracefully plopped down on the bed, sighing as the weight was taken off her numb but still broken ankle.

Elrohir gave her a look and then made his way over to his own bed sniffing slightly as he sat down in a much more graceful manor, "You smell better," He remarked in such a way that reminded her of the upper-class men and women who look down on anyone not wearing the latest Gucci shoes, or who didn't own the latest Chanel handbag.

Choosing to ignore his insult, Emily swung her legs onto the bed thanking whatever God there may have been for making Elrohir forget about her little slip of the tongue earlier. "What did you do to my foot?" She asked glaring at him, trying her best to look 'Sarah-like' which, in reality didn't need much.

"Me?" Elrohir asked incredulously, "You're the one who broke it." He said.

"No you absolute dunce, I mean, what did you do to it?" She pointed to the bandaging, "It doesn't hurt." She added, as if talking to a significantly slow child.

"Ah." He said, looking towards the door, "Elladan was the one who bandaged your foot, he applied a balm that hinders the pain." He said as if talking simple math of two plus two equal's invisible men.

"Oh. Right. So did he get that from the hospital or something?" She asked, wondering why on earth she was having such a everyday conversation with her kidnaper.

"No. He made it." He answered, turning back around to watch her face. Emily frowned at him and looked towards her foot.

"No one makes 'balms'. They buy them." She said looking him in the eye.

Elrohir locked eyes with her and kept staring, "Well, Elladan isn't 'no one'. And he did make it." He said never losing eye contact.

Emily narrowed her eyes, "Made it with what?" She asked laughter on the edge of her words, "Bits of dirt and a couple leaves? Come on, stop screwing with me, you've already kidnapped me, may as well tell me the truth as it seems I'm not going anywhere." She said resentfully.

Elrohir leaned forward, "I assure you my lady, I am not 'screwing' with you. And I do not know what he made it with," he lied, "You will have to ask Elladan, and while you are at it, you should thank him as well."

"One, what's with all this 'milady' and 'maiden' crap? Two, I'm not asking that brute. And three, maybe I will say thank you. After he apologises for being such a dick. I mean, seriously, even for a kidnaper he's quite horrible." In all honesty Emily knew she was lucky. Her kidnaper's seemed happy enough to not let her starve, and hadn't started to cut off pieces of her body to send back to her mother, so all in all, it seemed maybe fate did like her a little bit, because she either has the best kidnaper's in the world, or the most dumb ones.

"One," Elrohir said narrowing his eyes to match her own, "Calling you 'my lady' is merely polite. Because I assure you, from the bruises on my leg, you are no lady." He watched with mild satisfaction as her cheeks reddened and she glared at him, her eyes flashing an odd black colour, "Two, my brother is not a brute; he has every reason to be weary of you. And three, he will not apologise until you do."

"Well," She said, sounding an awful lot like her mother after she had lost a fight with Sarah, "He'll be waiting a long time." She said lamely, turning suddenly to turn off her bedside light, laying on her side with her back to Elrohir.

He smirked at her sulk as she huffed and got comfortable on the bed. He, in turn switched off his beside light and lay on his back, staring unseeingly at the ceiling, and willing the time to move faster, his excitement was back again and he was soon lost to dreams of reuniting with his parents.

* * *

Elrohir was vaguely aware of someone tugging on his tunic, he knew he should probably ask them what was the matter, or tell them to go away, but he was too tired to do either so he slipped back into rest, only to be fully awaken as the tugging on his tunic got more persistent. Elrohir shot up in the bed, causing the other person to fall backwards. As his eyes focused he noted a shuffling of feet going away from his bed and looked to his right.

"Sarah?" He asked tiredly, "What is it? What's the matter?"

The girl in question was staring at him in an odd way and after a few minutes, limped hesitantly to his bed where he sat cross-legged and fully alert. She stopped by his bedside and waited, it didn't look like she was going to talk first so Elrohir let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Sarah, will you please spit out whatever has woken you up? Because by waking up, you had deemed fit to wake me up and believe it or not, I am exhausted." As if to emphasise his point, he rubbed at his eyes and observed her, watching in the dim moonlight as her cheeks flushed and she mumbled something incoherently that even his elven ears couldn't pick up.

"I'm sorry?" He asked with a smirk, "What was that?"

"Canipleasetouchyourears?Itsbeenbuggingme." She said and Elrohir almost laughed.

"I'm sorry; I did not quite catch that." He said again, fully grinning now.

"I said," Emily began, getting annoyed at his obvious amusement at her uncomfortable state, "Can I please touch your ears because it has been bothering me all night."

"Oh." Elrohir said as if were so simple, "Why did you not just say that?" He grinned and took note of the threat of letting her near his ears, he subtly checked his pocket for his dagger, and swiped a glance over her measuring her danger levels. Her clothes were rumpled where she had slept on them, and any weapon like things she had had in her bag had been taken out, the only dangerous thing on her were her hands, and looking at her bruised wrists which seemed to finally be healing, he assessed that she could not do much damage with her hands even if she had wanted to and oddly, Elrohir didn't think she wanted harm to come of him.

Coming out of warrior mode, he raised a hand to push some hair behind his ear, watching as her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Remember, they're sensitive, so be careful." He said, and he felt as though he were talking to elflings all over again.

Emily nodded her head subconsciously, and a moment of quiet befell the room, the only thing she could hear were her rapid breaths as she raised a hesitant hand to his face, watching as he closed his eyes and held himself very still, his palms splayed on the bed sheet. Emily almost pulled back, fearful of what she might feel, or what she might not feel. In the end, she gathered her courage and pushed her hand forward, gasping slightly as the silky smooth skin of the ear came into contact with her fingers. She let her fingers stay there for a while, revelling in the feeling of such smooth skin, finally, she moved her fingers towards the tip of the ear, unintentionally looking for the place where the fake ear was attached, it wasn't. These were his real ears. Emily was so caught up in stroking and feeling the ears that she didn't even notice Elrohir's hands grip the bed sheet in a steel grip, and didn't notice when his lips parted or when his breaths came quicker. What she did notice however was when a small moan escaped his perfect lips. Hearing the sound she jumped back in a rush, practically crawling the rest of the way back to her bed.

Hauling herself onto the sheets, she quickly threw back the covers and burrowed inside, too fearful to spare a glance in Elrohir's direction. Her cheeks were on fire and her fingers tingled where she had touched his ears as thoughts kept landing in her head. One, she thought, the ears were most definitely real, even if they were sewn on, they couldn't heal that fast, two, his skin was stupidly soft, like silk but smoother I wonder where he got his lotion? She almost laughed at her wayward mind, and three, she concluded, I'm pretty sure he just got stupidly turned on from me touching his ear.

Emily let out a small giggle, which then erupted into full out laughter, all the while a glaring Elrohir bored holes into the back of her head. "If you be so kind my lady," Elrohir said, although he spat the word 'lady' as though it were a curse, "Some of us are trying to sleep and would appreciate you being quiet."

"Oh, I'm sorry Elrohir. I was under the impression that you were wide awake and having a very…_arousing_ time." Emily started to laugh again, hearing a grunt from Elrohir and then the deliberate fake snores as he tried to ignore her. Well, I may as well have fun while being kidnapped, she thought smiling widely as her laughter quietened down as she settled for bed.

* * *

And so the days that followed passed in the same fashion- motel by night, highway by day. Stopping in-between to get food from various gas stations, although it was safe to say that Glorfindel out rightly refused to let her out of the car, and said no even before she asked if she could open the window. Emily had begun to lose all sense of days and times, and slept when fatigue took her and shouted when a wave of escape hit her. The bones in her broken foot began to heal slowly but surely, much to the incredulity of Elladan to which Emily only replied that she just had a good immune system; the men had all looked at one another and silently agreed that a human could not heal that fast and that a 'good immune system' had nothing to do with it.

Their journey to the shores of Maryland had thus far been uneventful, except for Emily pulling another escape stunt and accidently kicking Elladan in the face, nothing had gone wrong and Emily saw a physically change in the men. No longer were their backs so tense, or their faces so hard, they were less inclined to snap at her and more inclined to politely tell her to shut up.

They were two days from the coast and the men's giddy behaviour was getting to Emily. If they were this happy that they were this close to the boats then her window for escape was rapidly closing, her only hope was that through their happiness they would slip up and let their guard down and maybe, just maybe she may be able to escape their kidnaper's radar that always seemed to be on such high alert.

Glorfindel pulled up to their motel for the night, turning the lights off with a wave of his hand and sighing as the only spot he could find was the one furthest away from the motel.

"It'll be fine," Elladan said a grin in his voice, "Nothing can stop us now; we are too close."

Glorfindel let out a laugh, "So old, yet so young." He murmured, jumping out of the car and opening Emily's door to pull her out by her upper arm.

"Erm…I do have hands you know," She muttered, shrugging Glorfindel's hand off her arm and rubbing the spot with her other hand, "Maybe you could use them next time you decide to drag me from hell."

Glorfindel laughed once more, "I really thought you would put up more of a fight," He said as he led her to the room that Elladan had just acquired from another flirting receptionist, in all trusts Emily was getting more than a little bit annoyed with them. They oddly reminded her of screaming fan girl fish. If fan girls looked like fish, and if fish were fan girls. Actually, she thought, come to think of it, all the receptionists looked mightily similar almost like- her thoughts were cut off as Glorfindel shoved her roughly into the room, smiling at her when she turned back around as if he had done nothing wrong while she glared at him, all previous thoughts forgotten.

"Elladan will be with you tonight. For your sake, I wouldn't try anything." Glorfindel said, a smirk in his voice as he left the room, closing the door behind him Elrohir and Elladan having already said goodnight to one another.

"So…I was-" She began.

"Bed. Now." He replied, not even turning to look at her as he laid down on his bed, turning off the lamp beside his bed. Emily stood there for a moment, completely flawed by his abruptness. Out of the three men, Elladan really hadn't treated her anymore nicely, it was as if he held her at arms length, even after witnessing the damage she could inflict upon herself and not upon others.

"But I was just going to-"

Elladan sat up in bed turning to glare at her from across the room, "Go and have a shower, get dressed and get to bed." He commanded, and seeing that Emily was about to protest added: "Do as I say." In a monotone voice that held no room for any arguments. Emily was motionless for all of two seconds before she nodded, jumped to her bag, pulled out a change of clothes and practically ran into the bathroom. Elladan held back his laughter at the girl, even if he didn't like her, he had to admit she held entertainment purposes.

An hour later and Emily was safely and securely tucked into her motel bed, breathing deeply as Elladan watched her innocent face, more so in sleep. He frowned, it was no use trying to solve Sarah's puzzle's now, for now, he would sleep for it was the first bed he had seen in two weeks and god had he missed a mattress, even a mattress as thin as this one was, my word, it's like gaining a feathered soft back, was his last thought as he drifted to sleep.

It seemed like only seconds later when he was being rudely awaken, and it took him a moment to realise what had awoken him. His eyes focused suddenly placing what he had heard as a scream- a human woman's blood boiling inducing scream. He was up and out of the bed faster than one could blink and rushing over to Emily's bed, pulling her bag over his shoulders and shoving her awake. He couldn't carry her back to car, not if he had to defend himself and her.

"Sarah!" He shouted, roughly taking her shoulders and shaking her awake, "Sarah by the Valar if you do not get up right now…" He threatened, sighing as he felt her shift beneath him and blink sleepily.

"Elladan?" She murmured, "What's going-"

"No time." He said as he dragged her off the bed and pulled her to the door, placing an ear to its wood to hear outside.

"Elladan, no tell me what-"

"Sarah for Eru's sake shut up!" He hissed as he pressed his ear back to the door while Emily huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He turned back towards her a glint in his eyes, "If this if your doing by the God's I will have your head." He said in a hard voice, grabbing her hands and using a piece of rope from his pocket to bind them together.

"So we're back to this shit again?" She asked, exasperated. "What did I do this time?" She asked, just as another scream sounded through the night. Emily instinctively clutched onto Elladan's shirt/old medieval tunic thing, as she liked to call it, for protection. Elladan spared her an annoyed glance before going back to listening at the door, and she felt rather than heard him sigh out in relief.

"Elrohir is at the door, you will go with him." He said, opening the door and pushing Emily out before him into the waiting arms of Elrohir, who wrapped an arm around her waist and started to pull her towards the car.

"Bu-But Elladan wait-" She tried to twist her head around and caught a glimpse of Elladan pull his gleaming sword out of its sheath at his side and a slice of fear went through Emily as she quickly snapped her head around before she could see anything be killed. As they were walking to the car Emily sensed that Elladan was following them, taking up the rear, and although she could not see Glorfindel, she sensed he was somewhere near, keeping an eye on them. Her heart was racing and a horrible stench of rotting flesh entered his nostrils and she began to gag, her eyes watering and it was then that she remembered her earlier thoughts.

"Elrohir-"She began only to be cut off with a sharp shushing sound.

"No- Elrohir listen to me, before I noticed something-"

"Sarah hush, the sooner we get to the car the better." Elrohir said, his eyes scanning the dark spots in the parking lot for any moving shadows.

"No! Elrohir none of you will listen but you _have_ to." Emily blurted out, finally seeing the significance of her thoughts, "All of the receptionists at all of the motels. I knew I saw something similar in them, they all wore that same pendant and Elrohir- Elrohir I think they were the _same woman_. " She whispered, copying Elrohir as his eyes swept over the dark spots in the parking lot, that was, until Elrohir stopped them abruptly and looked down at Emily with wide eyes, turning his head back to his brother suddenly.

"Elladan to your right!" He shouted just in time for Elladan to look mildly confused and wing his blade to the right, connecting with another sword in a deafening crunch of steel on steel. Emily cringed, wanting to stick her fingers in her ears to save her eardrums from bursting. Elrohir stirred into motion and dragged her towards the car at breakneck speed, running her there, but it was still so far. In the distance Emily could here another set of blades meeting and she guessed that Glorfindel had joined the fight.

Without warning, Emily stopped, hearing the familiar sounds of a gun being cocked. "Elrohir duck!" She shouted, shoving him down with her bound hands, hearing the bullet whizz over the top of her head and the angry grunt of something as it tried to cock the gun again. Elrohir recovered from his momentary lapse and stood up straight again, unsheathing his sword and embedding it into the neck of something black and gnarled, causing it to drop its gun as it fell to the floor while Emily suppressed a scream as it seemed to shimmer out of shape and eventually 'evaporate' for lack of a better word. She could see Elladan still battling his beast quite near to them and Emily wondered if he had still been trying to protect them while eh fought.

"Sarah when I say go you run for the car." Elrohir said holding his sword wearily and standing in front of Emily, "Sarah! Sarah can you do that for me? Can you run to the car for me?" Emily nodded dumbly, hearing Elrohir let out a relieved breath, just as another thing came running at him, "GO NOW!" He bellowed, raising his sword to block his opponents slice.

Emily froze, she had two options, escape, or get to the car. Escape or stay. Stay or escape. She could hear as if from a distance Elrohir's grunts as he tried to hold off his extremely large opponent and shout at her to run for the car. Emily nodded again absently almost to herself, hearing the sounds of the small battle as if from a distance. Subconsciously, her foot moved in the opposite direction to the car, meaning to make a run for it, but at that moment, Elladan's sword was thrown out of his hand while he was left defenceless. She took another step towards freedom, ignoring the shouts from Elrohir and the even dimmer shouts of Glorfindel. She could almost see it, freedom, her mother her sister her father. She could see it…And yet it seemed almost impossible to reach, almost a lifetime away. Another _world_ away.

She was about to take another step before her foot stilled as her attention was brought towards Elladan who was ducking and blocking as many blows from the thing standing in front fo him as he could. One of his arms was cut and bleeding where the knife had nicked him and Emily dumbly wondered if he was okay.

Something caught her eye and she looked down to see the gleaming sword of Elladan in all its glory, unsheathed and bloody sharp looking. Elladan cried out again for his brother or Glorfindel, but they were both preoccupied with brutal looking things that were both taller and wider than them although they weren't as big as the one Elladan had the misfortune of fighting. Emily weighed her options and made a split decision, picking up the sword by the hilt between her bound hands (watching it slip from her grasp many times before she could get a good grip on it) she turned to Elladan and walked/ half jogged to the thing and was just about to swing its sword down and slit his throat.

Abandoning all thoughts of escape and home baked cookies, and not knowing what else to do, Emily swung the sword upwards hearing the sickening quench as it sliced through the things body and out through its heart. Emily's heart seemed to constrict as the monstrosity fell forwards, Elladan rolling out from underneath it in time to avoid being crushed. The thing fell with a loud thud, and upon its impact the other creatures fighting Elladan and Glorfindel seemed to cease to exist causing the men to gasp.

The parking lot was quiet for three heartbeats, then, with a strangled cry Emily dropped the blade from between her bound hands and stumbled back from Elladan who was still lying on the floor, clutching his arm. Her broken foot was still numb and she hadn't figure out how to work it just yet so when she put her weight on it, her leg instinctively buckled under the weight, causing her to crash down on her backside painfully. But she didn't stop there, she kept scrambling back, using her legs awkwardly to push herself back and far away from something that she had just killed.

No matter that the thing had been about to kill Elladan, or that it stunk so much that it made her eyes water, or the fact that it had kept hissing that the girl was his. No. The fact was, that thing still had a heartbeat. Still had a voice, and still had a mind. It was a living thing. And now, because of her reckless acts it would never breathe again, or talk again or even try to kill again, and as much as that was justice, Emily couldn't bring herself to rejoice. In fact, the only thing she could do was to try and hold down the bile that kept rising and threatening to spill from her throat. It was only after a few minutes of muffled silence that she could start to hear other sound, horrible sounds, like the cleaning of blades or the grim voices of the men, or the horrible gut wrenching sobs that seemed to be coming from near by. Only days later would she come to realise that those were her sobs, as her crying reached hysteria levels.

She had just killed, and she felt sick. Sick to her bone and sick to her core. Everything felt wrong, like the earth had tilted on its axis, and Emily wondered if she had made the right choice. She had chosen to stay and not escape, but by doing so, had she lost more than only her freedom?

The following events wouldn't become clear to her for many more weeks. It seems in an effort to heal itself; her mind blocked some things from her memory. Like, for weeks she wouldn't remember Elrohir approaching her cautiously, bending down to touch her knee to see if she was okay. She wouldn't remember for days how she had started to thrash and tear ad her own skin and clothes in an attempt to get away from him, failing to breathe normally in her panic attack. She would forget for a while how arms had held her close and whispered that it was going to be okay, and she would fail to remember for some time how she was carried screaming in agony as if she herself had been killed from her spot on the floor back to the car. The following day and a half journey to the ships would only be remembered in bleak snippets. Conversations between the men. Being forced to drink water and being forced to eat bread. Having her back rubbed as she threw up everything all over again. What she most remembered though, were the songs someone had sung to her to get her to sleep when all she could think about was the knife going in and out of the tough flesh, and the whizz of air as it left the creature's lungs for the last time. When those memories had come and she had started to cry and rock back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, someone had pulled her to their side and at first had hesitantly rubbed her arms, growing in confidence the more times they had to do it, and sung to her. The songs were simple and enchanting and the voice was always so lulling that she barely stayed awake for all of it, although she knew the singer kept on singing.

"Sleep Sarah, for noon tomorrow we shall reach the ships." Someone whispered in her ear, just before she fell asleep, the dry tracks of hours' worth of tears staining her face.

* * *

**A/N**: Alright, next chapter the ships ! Sorry the story is taking so long to get to the ships aha I just have so much to say it seems, and I apologise for the length of these chapters, I really only do it because I love to make you guys happy aha so don't forget to review, even if its to tell me what I can do to improve, but I only tolerate Constructive Criticism. Flamers, or haters or whatever you call yourselves, I advise you to click the x at the top of the page now (:

To my loyal reviewers who, really are the only reason I write this, thank you so much, getting all your reviews in support of my story and relatively telling that other reviewer where to stick her review was wonderful aha thank you guys so much, and I'd love you all to keep reading, thank you once again !

I was asked in a numbder of reviews to elaborate on my excuse for not updated for like a month aha so I had a wonderful time in the caribbean,although I got sick for a about two weeks so that was horrible, but once I got better we went to the beach like all the time aha I also got back to good results as said before and I got 6A's, 3B's and a C in maths but that was all anyone could ever ask for aha so, don't forget to review because I need your help to write this story, I don't think I can do it alone aha

so thank you again for reading, and don't forget to leave a comment !

xx


	6. Chapter 5

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

_Chapter 5: The last of the grey ships_

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**A/N**: Hello again! Thank you so much for all the reviews and all the story alerts and author alerts (: This story is going to be so long, its already 36,400 words long, and we haven't even got to chapter ten aha So thank you to those of you who have been with me since the beginning, and for those of you who just got here, keep on reading and thanks for clicking! I think this chapter is going to be shorter, I'm not too sure yet, but who knows, we all know I talk too much for my own good aha also, I know my point of view has been a bit screwed up, but lets just call it a general/everybody's mixed in together/ start's with Emily then veers off, point of view for now aha Also, as horrible as this sounds, I believe this only to be a filler chapter aha but at least we're finally on the ships now, and if this chapter is lacking in description, never fear, more shall come in the next chapter aha

* * *

"We should have listened to her." Elladan muttered, changing gear as he changed lanes on the freeway, glancing at the clock as it read 10:05am. They had six hours left until their destination, reaching the ships at approximately four pm and then they had another two months on the ships before they could reach Valinor. And then after that they had another god knows how many days/weeks/months/years before they could leave Mondos' halls and then finally, after all that had been done, he could finally see his Naneth and Ada again, something he had been waiting for, for the better part of almost seven thousand years. Shaking thoughts of his parents out of his head he glanced into the rear view mirror, watching as Sarah slept against Glorfindel, her face scrunched up as if in pain, soft whimpers leaving her once in a while.

Elrohir who was sat in the passenger seat beside him murmured his agreement, "She tried to tell us but we wouldn't listen." He shook his head, "I know we should have had this conversation before, but with trying to look after Sarah…" He paused, "Do you have any idea what they were?" He asked, his voice weary.

There was a pause in which Elladan switched lanes again and Glorfindel shifted the girl sleeping in his lap, "I believe they correct term is what was _it_, and not 'they', for I believe it to be one thing and not four. I think it was a Gremhant. Legends and rumours of them have been circling for years as being one of Sauron's new recruits…But of course, no one listen to legends these days." Glorfindel said with a soft, dark chuckle.

Elladan frowned thinking hard, and waited for a speeding car to pass him before he voiced his thoughts, "I once heard an elleth speak of one…Although it was thousands of years ago and only after the second time Sauron tried to rear his ugly head again." He murmured glancing at Sarah again, "She told me that they were demons of old. Things as old as the seas, but had all been destroyed when Melkor was thrown into the void." He shook his head, "Obviously, not all of them were destroyed." He chuckled and revved the engine, loving the purr it made as he cruised along. Glorfindel rarely trusted him with his cars and he relished in every chance he got to drive one.

"Yes, but what exactly _are_ they?" Elrohir asked, turning around in his seat for Glorfindel to tell him, his face like that of an elflings waiting for a story to be told under the cover of moonlight. Watching his eager face, a wave of nostalgia hit Glorfindel and he soon found he was oddly fighting back tears. He couldn't even remember the last time he had wept openly, let alone for himself. Shaking himself, he absently stroked the girl's hair to get her to quiet her whimpers before turning his gaze back to Elrohir and beaming in pride at the man he had become.

"Gremhant's are indeed 'demons of old'. Things created when Melkor first tainted the song of creation. As Sarah noticed, they can split their form. Appearing in many different places at many different times in a form of disguise. The pendant that Sarah noticed is how they can change their forms. Given to them by Melkor so that they too may change their appearance to suit his wishes. Think of them as like splitting an atom. It can be split and split again, all identical replicas splitting with it. But you have to kill the real one to destroy the whole thing. That's why when you slashed its neck; it didn't die but went back into its soul body." Glorfindel said while Elrohir nodded as though it all made sense.

"But that doesn't explain how it knew where to find us, or what route we would be taking, or how it knew we were going to the ships." Elrohir said, and at a questioning glance from Glorfindel said, "My one kept spitting out that we would never reach the ships alive." He said while rolling a shoulder, they had opted not to stay in another motel and had slept in intervals while another person drove.

"Maybe she told them." Elladan said quietly, his eyes focused on the road ahead, a deathly silence following his words.

"…She saved your life." Elrohir stated his eyes hard and trained on his brother who refused to look at anyone or anything apart from the road ahead.

"Yes. She did." He murmured, "But saved me for what?" He asked, turning to look at his brother with equally hard eyes.

Elrohir gave an annoyed sound at the back of his throat while Glorfindel watched the two with raised eyebrows, "She was going to run." He said, "You all saw it, she was about to run until she heard you shout, Elladan. And then what did she do? She did the only thing she could do and she killed it. Saving your life and probably damaging her mind for a good while."

And as if agreeing to his statement the girl gave a particularly loud whimper to which Glorfindel shot an annoyed look to the boys and began to hum a tune to get the girl to quiet down.

"That still does not devoid the fact that she could still be untrustworthy." Elladan said as in rebuttal, although it sounded weak even to his own ears.

"She saved you _life_." Elrohir said, his voice soft, "For that _I_ at least will be in her debt."

Elladan sighed, took a hand off the steering while and rubbed his brother's shoulder lovingly, "I am still here brother." He murmured, "It will take more than that to kill me off."

All was quiet in the car then, Elrohir taking his brother's hand in his own and gripping it tightly, leaving Elladan to drive one handed as he was above capable. Glorfindel had stopped humming as the girl had been lulled back into sleep, her face finally relaxed and her hands, although still gripping Glorfindel's tunic, were slack rather than deathly tight. The sun had grown high in the sky by the time Emily started to wake up from her extended slumber.

Cracking open her eyes in the dimly lit car she felt herself be shifted by someone who was lightly holding her, their arms warm and secure and for a reason she couldn't remember, she didn't want to get up, she wanted to stay in these arms, even if they were linked to some sort of danger and some inkling of long swords. In her delirious state, nothing made any sense; the car seemed to dark, her eyelids too bruised. Faces and shapes loomed up at her from all angles and it took an immeasurable amount of time for to realise that they were just shadows passing as the car moved in and out of the shade.

"I never had a gandmama." She said quietly, startling all three men in the car who turned to look at her worriedly, her eyes seemed slightly vacant, but were clearing as she focused on things in the car, shifting so that she was lying on her back but making no other moves to get up from her position of lying on Glorfindel. "All the other kids had nanas and they baked them cakes and cookies…I never had a nana so I only baked stuff with mom."

Elrohir looked anxiously at Glorfindel who shrugged his shoulders and glanced down at the girl as she twiddled a piece of string in her fingers which had been previously unbound. "I was really upset, you know, when I didn't have a nana. But one day, I went to bed and started to dream, suddenly there was a lady there." She said her voice quiet as though she was telling a bed time story to children. "This lady was so pretty, she had such nice hair…It was so golden and…almost silver like." She said, a small smile upon her lips, "And she told me that she was there to keep the bad things out. She stoked my hair and sung me this song…I can't remember it now, but it was so beautiful." He voice had taken on a wistful note, "I asked her if I could call her nana and she said yes. So that was how I got a nana." She concluded as though she should receive a round of applause, "Nana came to see me every night for years…Sarah said she didn't have a nana and neither did I, but I knew the truth…I had a nana and she kept all the bad things away." She nodded her head, turning her head towards Elrohir and smiling in a way that made him frown.

"I do not think she is better." He murmured watching her eyelids droop as she slipped into sleep once again.

"…So she's slightly psychotic?" Elladan asked to break the silence that followed her abrupt slip into dreamland.

"Elladan!" Glorfindel reprimanded, although he was smiling just a little bit.

"You have to admit…That whole nana story was a bit creepy. Although I do wonder…"

"…But it can't be. Of course it can't be." Elrohir finished for him, shaking his head and turning back around in his seat to face the road.

"She isn't psychotic…" Glorfindel said frowning, "Although she seems to forget an awful lot."

* * *

"Wake up Sarah," Someone murmured, shaking the girls shoulder slightly, "We have arrived."

Emily was jostled awake, her eyes still unfocused as she blinked them open, pulling herself into a sitting position and absently registered the painful head rush that ensued. She didn't acknowledge the car stopping, or Glorfindel calling her name, instead she focused don smoothing down her hair, and patting her clothes as though her appearance was of her uttermost concern; opposed to the obvious fact that she was about to be forced onto a ship of some kind and was probably never to see her family ever again. But apart from that, her hair seemed flat enough and she pinched her cheeks to give them some colour.

Some part of her mind was screaming at her to snap out of it, to stop being so weak and to shake herself out of the shock, but the bigger part of her mind, the part that overload the rational thinking fought back and the shock won her over even before her eyes could begin to even try and focus once more.

Her car door swung open and a smiling Elrohir, bathed in a halo of sun looked at her, worry in his tight eyes, although behind the worry anyone could see the excited playful gleam in his eyes. He had waited too long to be back home, finally he would find himself again. He laid a hand on her arm, pulling her up into a standing position. Emily looked around with unseeing eyes and the barren waste land where she stood. The ground was fine sand, dust almost, and their car was the only one around for miles. She could see no see, no ship and some piece of her mind asked if they had lied. If she had made the wrong choice in saving Elladan. Maybe they planned to kill her. Maybe that's what they had planned all along.

Her mind put an end to those thoughts, burying them deep enough that Emily forgot she had ever thought them, in an effort to not overload itself in grief. She swayed slightly on her feet, causing Elrohir to tighten his grip on her.

"We must leave the car here." He said, "I will carry you to the ship, your footfalls will be too heavy and we may be followed." He said, not even waiting for an affirmative before he swung her up into his arms, starting off into the north at a run, holding the girl as though she weighed nothing more than a sack of down feathers.

The havens ruled by Cirdan the shipwright had not been on this coast all those years ago. After the fall of Sauron by Frodo the havens had been ran-sacked with Orc's trying to take the ships to Valinor to wage war against the elves. The Haven people had either been slaughtered or had sled to Valinor, only a few stayed in middle earth, passing down their knowledge on how to make the ships to other elves before the sailed. And elven ship sailed once every thousand years after that, and the two ships leaving today were the last to leave earth forever. For anyone remaining elves, they would have to wait to forcefully be killed or would fade. Each a fate Elrohir didn't like to swell on too long. He had been thinking over these thoughts for the better part of twenty minutes, almost forgetting that he was carrying a maiden, that was, until she started to talk in a voice just above a whisper.

"Gen Hannon, Elrohir." She paused, "Man sâd telil?" She asked, her voice innocent and young.

Elrohir almost dropped her as he slowed his run to a walk, glancing down at her in shock and a little bit fo anger. How did she know Elvish? He asked himself, almost laughing out loud. How is her foot healing so fast? How did she notice about the receptionists all being the same? By Eru I fear I will never have an answer to these questions, she speaks these words as though she has been speaking them her whole life, yet she has no recollection afterwards. Elrohir started his run again, I may as well humour her until she can see a healer on the ship.

"Telin o Imladris, Sarah." He replied slowly, looking ahead and seeing the shoreline and two grey specks in the distance, his feet picking up speed as though his Naneth was on the boat waiting herself.

"Oh," She whispered, nodding as though she had known this all along, although Elrohir was confused as to how she knew it. "Man sad Imladris?"

Elrohir sighed, looking down at her, "In middle earth, Sarah."

Again the girl nodded, staring unseeingly into Elrohir's chest as though the secrets of her life were woven into its intricate designs. He shook his head, slowing down to a jog as he realised the ships were right before him; they were bigger than the last ones, as to accommodate the amount of elves and half-elves leaving the earths shores.

The ships were large an opposing grey colour that screamed elegance and defiance, their strange colours oddly blending in with the polluted murky depths of the water's coastline. Both ships were the same, twins of each other, made with the wood from two twin trees. As far as he could tell form the inscription upon the bow, one was named Turion and the other Turian. He could make out figures of elves as some were boarding on the long planks, holding bags of their belongings, others were standing upon the brig, watching as Elrohir ran up to the small gaggle of people standing just before the boarding plank, a girl in his arms.

Elrohir stopped just before his brothers, lightly touching his forehead with his brothers, squishing Sarah in-between them. Stepping back from his brother he grinned at Glorfindel who returned it, then nodded towards the girl who was murmuring nonsense to herself about colours and bad men. Elrohir shook his head slightly and Glorfindel nodded his in response. It was then that Elrohir acknowledged the two other people standing with them. One was dressed in black, a hood upon their head even in the spring heat; the other had dark shaggy hair and grey eyes. He was dressed in a pale blue tunic and was grinning at Elrohir as though he hadn't seen him in hundreds of years, which in reality, he hadn't.

"Estel…" Elrohir began, his voice so filled with happiness his grin was contagious and he could spot some elves upon the brig smiling along with him.

"Brother. It has been far too long." Estel said as Elrohir passed Sarah onto a reluctant Elladan who held the girl almost with contempt.

Elrohir ran up to Estel giving him a hug that would crush a bear, this would be the last time they would see one another until Arda came to an end. No words of farewell would be said, because they would meet again, no matter how long they had to wait. The two men held eacother at arms length, studying each other's features and trying to memorise them.

Elrohir turned from him suddenly remembering his manors and smiling at the person in the cloak, "Oracle." He said as way of greeting.

"Elorhir." She replied, inclining her shrouded head in what he assumed to be a getsure of greeting. He grinned back at her, turning his attention back to Aragorn.

"Goodluck little brother." Elrohir whispered, clasping Aragorn's arm while the other man did the same for him.

"Who are you calling little?" Aragorn replied grinning from ear to ear and Elrohir was sure his face would split from being so happy.

"Men I hate to cut you short but-

Glorfindel's words were cut off as they heard a struggle behind them, and they watched in confusion as Emily jumped down from Elladan's arms, her eyes wide as she spun around three times in confusion. Her eyes were still blank and Glorfindel assumed she was still in her state of shock, although why she looked so frightened was beyond him.

"That is the girl?" Aragorn asked, letting go of Elrohir's arm as he took a step forward to get a better look at her.

"No…No no!" The oracle whispered, causing the men to look at her in alarm, "Grab the child! And to the ships!" She cried.

Emily was still twisting around, looking at the ground as though it were moving, She turned her head back suddenly, hearing the bones creak in protest, "Run." She whispered, just as a vine snaked out of the ground and shot forward, trying to grab the oracle. In turn the Oracle of Gispelio's arm snaked out with impossible speed and sliced at the vine with a dagger, cutting the end off causing it to slither back through the hard ground. In the distance they could hear a muted scream.

That was all it took for Glorfindel to grab Emily around the waist and hoist her over his shoulder, sprinting towards the boarding plank. Emily reached out instinctively and grabbed hold of the oracle's cloak pulling her along as Glorfindel balanced on the precarious boarding plank and slowly made his was up it towards the ship.

"Oracle! You cannot board the ship!" Aragorn called out in panic, rushing forward to grab at the oracle's hands as she struggled to get out of the girl's grip.

Elladan and Elrohir watched in incredulity as trees began approaching the ships, although they weren't the trees that used to sing. These were black, gnarled things that looked more like deformed and tortured men rather than trees full of life. The twins scrambled after Aragon, forgetting that he wasn't allowed and had no permission to come with them to Valinor, forgetting that they were probably breaking about fifty unwritten rules of the Valar.

"BOARD THE SHIPS! RAISE THE ANCHOR'S! UNTIE THE SAILS!" The unanimous orders could be heard on both ships by both their captains who had been momentarily frozen by the approaching danger. "ALL PASSENGER'S TO THE CABINS! ALL PASSENGER'S TO THE CABINS!"

Glorfindel jumped from the plank and onto the deck almost skidding on water lightly coating the deck, bouncing Emily on his shoulders whose grip only tightened on the oracle's robes as she pulled her along. The oracle in turn gave a groan as she was forced to run or fall as they ran to wherever they were supposed to go, right now, she couldn't remember. Feeling Aragorn's hands on her shoulders trying to pull her back. She could her in the background the twins running after her, and Aragorn's pleas for her to turn back as it was their fate to fight off the trees and die once more only to be reborn. But for all her wise years, the only thing the oracle could think of was the men's mistake.

Glorfindel found the stairs that went down into the ship, he took them two at a time, conscious of the fact that it was a low ceiling and hoped to Elbereth he hadn't knocked the girl on his shoulders unconscious in his haste to get to their safe cabin. In the back of his mind he registered that Aragorn and the oracle had broken the rules and followed them onto the ship, but that would have to wait, the sooner they got to the wizard, the sooner they could sort Sarah out.

He turned down a corridor, not understanding why the ships were bigger on the inside than they appeared to the eyes on the outside. Turning around yet another corridor and hearing a grunt as the oracle smacked into the corner of a turn he found the door he was looking for, marked with a Golden Flower of Gondolin. Flinging open the door he almost collapsed with happiness at the sight before him as he barely registered the ships launch from the bay and the victorious shouts of other passengers aboard the ships as they left those foul things behind.

Sitting around a large mahogany table were the three people he wanted to see most in the world. He barrelled into the room, hastily dropping Emily onto a chair as he ran up the dark haired man who had tears in his eyes from seeing his friend at last.

"Erestor." Glorfindel murmured, "Oh you son of an elf…I have missed you so." His friend laughed loudly at his words into his ear, gripping Glorfindel so tightly that he gave up breathing for a while just to enjoy the embrace. After a while when air became necessary, he pulled back, gripping his friends face in his hands and surveying it, "Still as handsome as ever, I see." He said pulling his friend close again.

"And the same to you, Glorfindel, the same to you. Im gelir ceni ad lín; to see your face once more," The man gripped him closely and Glorfindel was not shocked to find his friend voice chocked with tears as he whispered: "So very happy."

Glorfindel let out a merry laugh as he patted his friends back, blinking back his tears before anyone could see them. "Oh, I'm sure there are two ellon whom you will be even happier to see." Glorfindel murmured, releasing the chief advisor and stepping aside so that Erestor could look behind him and lay eyes upon the twins. The two elfling worthy squeals that escaped the twins mouth had everyone roaring with laughter as they hugged and fought over who gets to hug Erestor the longest.

Glorfindel made his way over to the other side of the table where an almost crying Legolas was talking animatedly to a joyous Estel. Playfully pushing aside Estel he grabbed Legolas by his slender arms and swung him around a few times, delighting in the laughter he had missed during the dark years on earth. Once finished for now with hugging Legolas until he gasped for breath, Glorfindel turned towards the last chair which hadn't moved since they had all burst into the room.

Glorfindel bowed towards the man before him, who looked as though he hadn't aged a day since the last time they had seen each other, which was entirely true, the Maia hadn't aged at all.

"Arise bold Glorfindel, the twice born balrog slayer, protector of Arda." He said in a deep booming voice that demanded attention without asking for it, his mouth although shrouded behind a beard was quirked upward as he smiled at his old friend. Glorfindel straightened his back and grinned down at the Maia and nodded his head once.

"We have brought her, Mithrandir." Was all Glorfindel said as silence reigned down upon the room, the twins loud and bubbly laughter dying down as all inhabitants turned towards the girl sitting on a chair too large for her and seemed to enclose around her. The oracle was standing by her chair, and although they could not see her face they could tell she was angry about something.

There was a moment of stifled silence as Mithrandir regarded her quietly, a small frown playing on his brow as he watched her eyes slowly focus, her pupils retract back to their normal size and her eyes shrink to their normal extent. Abruptly she began laughing, a horrible sound really, to the elves ears she sounded as though she were demented and some of them would even go as far as to say it sounded like an Orc's brute laugh.

"I may as well tell you this now." She said, glaring at them; well, at least she's out of shock, Glorfindel thought sarcastically.

"What, Sarah? If it's about the tracking devices, we disabled all of them the moment we first knocked you out." Glorfindel said with a raised eyebrow as he watched her start to laugh again and looked at the oracle with a confused expression when the gifted being shifted uncomfortably next to the girl's chair.

"See, the thing is master elf," She said, grinning at them all in an unnerving way, "I'm crazy, and you may as well impale me on a sword now because the funny thing is," She let out another bark of laughter, "I'm not Sarah. I'm Emily."

* * *

Translations:

**Gen Hannon, Elrohir.**: _I thank you, Elrohir._

**Man sâd telil?**: _Where are you from?_

**Telin o Imladris, Emily.**_: I come from Rivendell, Emily._

**Man sad Imladris?**_: Where is Rivendell?_

**Im gelir ceni ad lín,**_: I am happy to see you again,_

I completely apologise for this rubbish chapter, I wrote it when I was like half asleep, and its totally the best I could come up with, please review and I promise the next chapter will be nice and long and much much better (:

This chapter is actually shorter! Ahaha its only four thousand and something, which is much better than the over ten thousand word one I got you guys to read like last week aha

But pleasepleaspleaseee review ! I like how much attention this story gets (: So Thank you, and to the reviewers who have been with me since the start, thank youuu (: you guys helped me write this !


	7. Chapter 6

History Revolvo Ipsum

_Chapter 6: Not exactly the four seasons._

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer: **The book world of Valinor and all of its splendour belongs to the ingenious mind of a great man named J.R.R. Tolkien. Only own my characters who have been woven if not expertly, but in a lot of detail into his work. I did this with no intention of making money, but for the entertainment and enjoyment of the readers here at .

**A/N**: Hey guys (: If you're new here, thank you for choosing my story to read, if you're someone coming back, thanks for having faith in my writing and coming back ! I know the last chapter was kinda crappy, so I'm going to try and win your trust again through this chapter for it has a lot to reveal, almost too much for my liking, but ah well, can't change it now aha, again I have no idea how long it will be, we shall see at the end! So Don't forget to review (: xx

* * *

A stifling silence followed Emily's words; it was filled with so much shock and anger that Emily found it hard to breathe, shifting around in her seat to clear her breathing passage. Every eye in the room was on her, most were angry, a couple were shocked, and although she couldn't see this infamous oracle's face, she knew whoever she or he was also glaring at her. Not knowing what else to do, she started to twiddle her thumbs, not having any awkward situation to do it in before, she found now was the correct time to do so. The silence stretched on and Emily kept her eyes trained on her thumbs, feeling the sense of dread and profound anger so much that it was almost hate bearing down on her. She was about to ask someone to say something with a metallic voice broke the silence.

"_What_ did you say?" Glorfindel asked, his voice was low, devoid of any emotion and so filled with hatred that Emily's head snapped up in shock. She looked at him, her eyes beginning to water at the sheer intensity of Glorfindel's green orbs.

"I said my name is Emily, not Sarah." She spat out, her tone defensive as Glorfindel stalked towards her chair, shoving the oracle out of his way without as much as a glance. Emily's eyes widened as she read murder in his eyes, pushing her chair back loudly and jumping to her feet, her eyes trying to search for the door. Glorfindel's legs were too long and without warning he was in front of her, breathing heavily. All was quiet for about five seconds, and then his hand snaked out with brute force. The slap echoed around the silent room as Emily's head reeled back, hitting the wall. For a second no one moved and then there seemed to be chaos, Emily clutched at her cheek, feeling it slick with blood for his slap had been backhanded and one of the rings on his fingers had cut her cheek. The other blonde man ran forward, too quickly for Emily to even comprehend and grabbed Glorfindel's hand as he pulled it back again for another strike.

Emily whimpered and pressed her back against the wall, trying to make herself seem as small as possible. She felt woozy, that slap had been _hard_. She watched with horror as Glorfindel struggled in the other man's arms, trying to get at her as he dragged him back. Calling for Elladan and Elrohir to assist him. Elladan seemed to shocked to move but Elrohir recovered quickly and ran forward, catching one of Glorfindel's fists as they got a bit too close to Emily's face.

Emily's ears wee ringing, and it took her a moment to realise that Glorfindel was shouting, no, _screaming_ at her. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" He bellowed, trying in vain to get free from the two men's holds. "YOU STUPID GIRL! YOU STUPID, IDIOTIC _FOOL_ OF A GIRL! WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL US?"

"Because you never asked!" Emily shouted back, clutching her cheek and sliding down the wall until she was in an awkward heap on the wood panelled floors. Someone's hand was on her shoulder, rubbing her arms and whispering something she didn't want to hear. Glorfindel was still screaming, Elladan was pacing, that random guy with the rugged hair was standing in a corner staring at her in shock, the dark haired guy had his head in his hands and that old man just _kept on_ looking at her.

"Enough." The old man said, and it was only because Emily had been staring at him that she knew he had said something, for she could hear nothing over the deafening curses Glorfindel was throwing in her direction.

"ENOUGH!" The man shouted, standing up from his seat. Immediately the room went quiet, Glorfindel stopped struggling, his insults dying on his tongue, Elladan stopped pacing, and the guy with his head in his hands pulled snapped his head up to attention. In an odd way, Emily would have liked this peaceful silence if it weren't for the fact that her cheek stung like a bitch and currently more than one very strong man wanted her head on a silver platter.

There was a pause and then, "Enough." The old man said again, quieter this time, yet his voice still demanded attention and obedience. "You have done wrong in a way. But not so wrong that you would hit an unarmed maiden." This was said to Glorfindel and the latter hung his head, shrugging out of the other two men's grips, walking to a chair and sitting down in it heavily. Silence reigned again and Emily was getting a little annoyed at all of these pregnant pauses. All she wanted to know is if they would kindly mind turning the ship back to the shore and letting her out, maybe even ask if they'd point her in the direction of New York.

"We have failed you, Oracle." Elladan muttered suddenly, his eyes wide and so sad that Emily almost felt bad for him.

"You have failed no one." The old man said, walking to Elladan and clapping him on the shoulder was a small smile, although Emily couldn't really tell seeing as his beard covered the lower half of his face.

"But you said…" Elladan began uncertainly, his brow furrowed and it was then that she finally recognised another presence behind her and someone's warm hand on her shoulder. Startled she let out a small yelp and scrambled to the side, realising it was the darkly cloaked body of the oracle.

"I said you have done wrong in a sense." The man started, "You brought the wrong twin. But the same outcome will happen." He smiled a little, "You see, twins are like two pieces of a puzzle. Two sides of a coin and two halves of a plan. Sauron cannot complete his task without the girl." He said, gesturing to a wide eyed Emily who tried to look as minute as achievable once more. "The plan must continue as before, she must be brought to Valinor at all costs. For she is not her sister," At this the old man turned to Emily and watched her as she tried to blend in with the chair, "She is not her sister, and probably more valuable for it."

Smiles erupted all around the room and Glorfindel's head snapped up, the ghost of a smile on his face, she heard the oracle sigh in relief from beside her and Elladan was actually smiling for once, and not the cowl Emily was used to. With everyone distracted Emily finally found the outline of the door and started to crawl towards it, hearing the others begin happy chatter as they talked about all of their achievements in catching her. Catch me my ass, she thought, I can swim, and Ii can make it back to shore. At the thought of the shore she remembered those vine things and paused. Okay, maybe not to the shore…But we're at sea, I'm sure there are other ships out here that will help a wounded girl. Hah! Wounded, she thought, if a slap on the face is being wounded.

Reaching the door, she jumped to her feet, grinning as the shaggy haired man shouted to the others to catch her, finally noticing where she was and what she intended to do. Grasping the door handle she flung it open, fully intending to make a break for it, but as soon as she stepped over the threshold she collided with someone who was carrying something wet. She knew this because when she ran into them, whatever they were carrying was spilled down her top.

There was a moment of stillness as her nerves tried to lull her into a false sense of security before someone behind her shouted, "Barricade the door Lindir!" Whoever this Lindir person was, their arms instinctively made a makeshift door, using their body to press her back into the room. But there's a problem with making a door of your body, there's always a gap.

Finding the gap, Emily jumped through the space between his raised arm and his slender body. The impact with the floor wasn't as bad as she thought it may be, and, ignoring the shouts behind her picked herself up and started a run at breakneck speed down the dimly lit hallway. She didn't quite know in what direction she was running, but it didn't matter. She had to leave, _now_. Even if she had to jump off the ship, it didn't matter, the further away, the better.

She turned around a corner and almost cried in relief as she saw the light of day through a doorway up ahead, trying to pick up her speed, she didn't even hear the person behind her before she felt arms lock around her waist so tightly that they knocked the breathe out of her. Whoever grabbed her swung her around and began to run her back to the room she and gotten out of. Upon seeing where she was being taken Emily kicked out her legs, trying to kick them against the wall to slow them down, shouting things her mother would blush at all the while.

"Let me go goldilocks!" She shouted as she caught a glimpse of blonder hair from the man who was restraining her. He grunted as she kicked backwards, connecting with his thigh but kept on running. He slowed down when he saw the room, walking through the open doorway, nodding to the others as he kept his arms around her.

The others watched as the girl grew tired and stopped struggling enough for the man to put her back into her chair. Her head was hung and she looked as though she didn't have anymore reason to fight. Lindir, who had stayed put when she had begun to run was staring at her in some mild alarm and a little annoyance at her having split his tea.

Emily's head snapped up and she glared at each of them in turn, "Well say something then!" She shouted, "You got what you wanted, you may as well gloat about it!"

Silence again and Emily's anger peaked to boiling point, "What?" She asked with a sneer, "No bound hands? No scathing looks, no treating me like I'm the devil's daughter?" She asked her eyes flashing to that odd black colour once more, and this time, Elladan wasn't the only one to notice it. "What? No slaps? No punches?" She asked Glorfindel staring at him so hard he feared his bones would break at the pure unadulterated hatred brewing in her eyes.

"We are sorry, Emily…But this is how it is to be." Elrohir said, and oddly enough, he really did sound apologetic.

"Sorry?" Emily echoed, her voice sounding hollow, "You wouldn't know sorry if it hit you in your fucking pointy ears." She was breathing deeply and was finding it hard to see anything other than blurry shapes as she blinked back tears. But she wouldn't cry, no she _refused_ to cry in front of them again. She had done too much crying and look where it had gotten her. The next time she spoke, her voice was shaky but strong, "You know what Elrohir? You can take your sorry and shove it up your ass. Keep it there then see how much it stings to lie to someone's face."

Emily was looking at him straight in the eye and watched with mild satisfaction as his eyes grew fractionally wider at her words.

"Bind her hands." The old man said quietly, watching her with an odd expression of curiosity mixed with empathy, "Bind her hands and chain them to the bed in her quarters where she cannot harm herself." Emily didn't even bother to put up a fight; she just sat there limply as Elrohir stepped forward and did what the old man asked.

Elrohir called for a servant to take the uncharacteristically compliant Emily to her quarters, watching in worry as she just followed the woman with downcast eyes. If he looked closely, he could see her shoulders moving in an odd way, and it was only as a sob escaped her lips that he realised she was crying. As soon as the door closed behind them, Glorfindel slumped into a seat, clutching his head in his hands. Erestor laid a hand on his shoulder in an effort to comfort him and ease his mind. Elladan was staring into space, thinking hard about something, and Estel and the Oracle were standing in the corner, sticking out like sore thumbs and it took Elrohir a moment to figure out why.

"But you cannot board the ship!" Elrohir gasped out suddenly his eyes wide as he remembered that taking them to Valinor was not in the agreed plan, although with the realization that they had snatched the wrong twin, nothing was going quite according to plan. That seemed to gather everyone's attention as the fact that two mortals who shouldn't be on the ship were.

"I know." Estel said quietly, his eyes troubled, "But the oracle was being dragged and we had to…by the Valar what have we done?"

Gandalf smiled slightly and regarded the two people standing in the corner, "You have done nothing wrong." He said quietly, "If the Valar did not want you on this ship, you would have perished on the shore. You did not, so assume that that solely means you will at last see Valinor." He reasoned, nodding as Aragorn seemed to soak in his words and believe them. The oracle however remained unmoving.

"Oracle? Maybe it is time you reveal that secret." Gandalf said with a small smile and with that, he exited the room, leaving everyone staring in confusion at the cloaked figure before them. The door shut with a click and the oracle sighed reaching up a hand to hold her hood.

"Maybe this is a sign," She murmured, "Maybe it is time I speak up." And with that, she tugged down the hood of her cloak, shaking out her hair and smiling apologetically at the men who's jaw's had all dropped.

Everyone had different reactions, which all seemed to happen simultaneously. Legolas shut his eyes as if the sight before him hurt, shaking his head back and forth muttering words that sounded like he was asking if he had lost him mind. Glorfindel stood up so quickly that his chair flew back, hitting the wall and falling on its side. Erestor swayed on his feet, reaching out to a wall for support. Aragorn seemed to faint next to the oracle's un-clothed face while Elladan seemed to lose his sense of direction and tilted towards a wall to lean on. And Lindir, well, Lindir seemed literally frozen while his legs wobbled precariously, his mouth forming a little 'o' as he tried to form any coherent words. Through this all, Elrohir's eyes had widened to the sizes of saucers and he choked out a question he wouldn't think he would ask until the end of days.

"_Arwen?" _He asked uncertainly, for his eyes must surely be betraying him, "Is that you?"

* * *

Emily's hands were bound and tied to a coarse rope that the woman in front of her was holding, using it to guide the quiet girl to her proposed housing, although the girl barely registered where she was going as she was deep in thought. Thinking about it, Emily realised that this was probably an opportune moment to escape. There was only a woman, a rope, the sea and her swimming skills standing in the way of her and almost definite freedom. And that, for ear of sounding self-pitying was too much. Too many obstacles and too much she couldn't be bothered to do to try and escape; she was _tired_. How many times had she tried to escape? Three? Four? In all truths, it didn't matter, because every time she tried to escape someone always came along and foiled her plans- or they knocked her out, whichever came first. And then, to make matters worse, there was the time that she had foiled her own plan, deciding that her conscience was more important to her than escape and she had ended up saving the life of her captor. Thinking back on it, that probably wasn't the smartest idea she's ever had. But then again, neither was pretending to be her sister and allow herself to be kidnapped for such a long time.

She sighed, maybe trying to escape one more time won't hurt anyone, and maybe, just maybe a fifth time at escape would help just a little. Raising her head, Emily looked to the woman who was quietly pulling her along, so quiet in fact, it was strange, she couldn't even hear the woman's footfalls. The woman had rich brown hair which was pulled into a single neat plait that fell to her lower back, in the torch light from the candles places at equal distances along the wooden hallway, the woman's hair seemed to shimmer and Emily found herself wanting to see the woman's hair free from its plait and able to shimmer in sunlight or even better, the eerie silver of moonlight. She was dressed in a floor lengeth gown of a pale blue colour which hugged her slim figure, Emily almost scoffed, did everyone who kidnapped her tend to be beyond beautiful? Because really, even though she hasn't seen the woman from the front, she just _knew_ she was a picture of perfect beauty. It's like, hey life, thanks for being such a fail, Emily thought with a roll of her eyes. The woman, Emily thought she'd call her Mia until or if ever she found out her name, was also extremely tall, she looked to be pushing six foot two inches at the very least.

Emily frowned, it was a pity she wasn't planning on staying, she'd have liked to have known Mia's real name. She looked behind her, noting that the hallway seemed awfully long for the size of the ship they were on, speaking of the ship, the damned thing kept lurching everywhere, and although Emily had travelled by boat before, it was always a quick boat, always moving and never…bobbing. As if on cur, the boat lurched and with it, so did Emily's stomach as she tried to stifle the wrech that seeme dot bubble from nowhere. Oh yes, escape no.5 was a definet 'put-into-action-before-i-get-sick-on-this-pretty-lady' situation and she be deployed very soon. Like, now, she thought as she gave a hard tug on her ropes, suprising the woman infornt of her for long enough to twist on her heal and run immediately into someone else.

Emily's disappointed and despair at having being once again caught was simmering to the surface and she felt as if she were about to cry, or worse, get sick on whoever had now wrapped their arms around her to secure her in place as she struggled to get free. "For pity's sake!" She xclamied inot the chest of someone who smelled faintly of smoke and earth, "Must you people foil each and every one of my plans?" She shouted, pushing backwards and out of the arms surrounding her. She could hear the woman behind her stuttering an apology to whoever Emily had run into.

"No need to apologise Anneth, no harm was done. Even if I was not here she would not have gotten far, she is tired and weak, she would have stumbled at alerted someone." Glacing up at the insult, Emily noticed with a start that it was the old guy! The beareded one who's voice sounded lulling and commanding all at once. When his grey eyes locked with her she immediately lowered her own, something inside of her recoiling at the man, the places where he had touched her bare arms seemed to sizzle with heat. What was the matter with her? She wasn't really burning. She just had to get a grip and get out. Although, escape seemed rather impossible now. Emily gave a mild snort, she was taking her lack of freedom very well, almost clamly, that in itself was worrying.

There was a pause and then the ropes on her hands were tugged and she was turned away from the odd old man. Although she knew in the back of her head that he was following her, just incase she tried anything again. Hnaging her head, Emily began to focus on other things other than the pain in her heart at the separation of everything she knew. In fact, she began to focus on things that were probably a bit more painful than her aching heart. And that was the rest of her body. Everything, every little inch ached, her foot, which had previously been broken seemed good as knew, which puzzled her and she wondered if maybe Elrohir was joking when she said she broke it. Her back, was on fire. Her arms were about to drop off and in the midst of all the unbearable pain, Emily found she couldn't care less if her arms and both her legs dropped off. Anything to get her away from her muscle pains and she would take it.

It was a while, but the trio eventually found Emily room. The girl in question looked up, noting with a little bit of horror that the door had no name or number and was entirely blank. Just like every other room she had passed. God, she thought, I'll never find it again.

"Here is your room, miss." The woman said quietly, a hint of embarrassment and regret in her voice. Probably still left over from almost letting a prisoner escape. Was that what she was to them? Nothing but a lowly prisoner to be man handled and used? _Yes_. Came the definite reply.

Mia, or Anneth as the old guy called her opened the door silently, allowing it to swing back as she hurried into the room, lighting candles as she went and Emily resisted the urge to ask the obvious question: Erm, we're surrounded by wood, do you think lighting candles is a good idea? But she held back, no point in angering the hand who fed you. Well, they hadn't fed her and if they did, she was sure they wouldn't do it with their hand, but the analogy still applied. With the woman no longer holding the end of the rope, Emily felt her bound loosen slightly and she felt the hiss of relief leaving her lips before she could stop them. A hand at her back pushed her over the threshold of the door and she almost cursed the old man for even touching her.

The room was simple yet elegant. Not exactly the four seasons, but it would do, she supposed. A double bed lay in the centre of the room, it's back pushed against the far wall, a round porthole window lay above it and at the foot of the bed was a beautifully decorated trunk which she assumed was to be used as a wardrobe. A table sat to the left of the bed, and through the flickering light of the candles Emily could faintly make out a pad of paper and ink pot and what looked to be a quill, although she must be mistaken, because people these days use pens, not quills. Tearing her eyes from the strange writing implements, she noticed to her astonishment a fireplace which Anneth was busy lighting.

"Hey!" Emily shouted stepping forward, "Hey you can't light that you idiot! We're on a wooden boat!" She almost shouted, watching as Anneth turned back to her in confusion and then turned to look past her at the old guy, who she was going to call gramps, who had silently slipped in behind her.

"Dude!" Emily said again, catching Anneth's confused face again, "Wood. Fire. Explosion. Kabloom!" Emily said slowly as if talking to a mentally challenged child, "You know, bye-bye Anneth. Dead. Fire?" She exclaimed in frustration.

Anneth's eyes narrowed as she straightened up, "I can understand you, daughter of man." She sniffed disadainfully, smoothing out her dress with delicate fingers. "And I can assure you that the ship won't go '_kabloom_'. The fire is contained." She stated as if Emily 'A daughter of man' as the stupid woman put it, was in fact the one who was mentally handicapped. In some part of her mind, behind the annoyance and the despair and the need to be sick and to stop moving, Emily took note of the beautiful face of the woman, the slender nose and the generously rosy lips, the clear grey eyes which in fact were now stormy due to her aggravation. A pang of jealousy went through Emily, maybe this was in truth purgatory, and they intended to torture her with not, machines and devices so horrific to see them one would cry, no, her torture would be more simple. Simply to look upon beautiful woman and men and know that she could never compare. And that in itself, was probably a more horrible torture than the machines.

"'The fire is contained?'" Emily asked, using her bound hands to make the air quotations, "What kind of hippy crap is that? Look. Do what you want with your fire, but leave me out of it. I didn't go through hell and back with two idiot twins and a man who slaps like a bitch all to die in a fire created by ignorance." Emily stated, trying to cross her arms and realising at the last moment that her hands were bound, letting them fall as one in defeat.

Emily cocked an eyebrow at Anneth, watching as her beautiful face tinged with red and she started to splutter a reply. "I think that is enough." Came the gruff voice from beside Emily, who in response gave a little jump. By Zeus! She had almost forgotten the blasted 'Gramps' was still there. "Emily, the fire is fine, it will not harm you or the ship and Anneth, tie Emily's bonds to her bedpost." Emily spluttered and watched in anger as Anneth assumed an almost smug innocent smile and tugged Emily, not too gently, towards the bed, tying the rope to one to the bed railings with a knot that would make a boy scout cry with inferiority.

There was a crackle behind Emily and she swirled just in time to see Gramps strike a match and light the fire, almost immediately the smaller pieces of wood caught fire and started to burn, casting a glow around the room. Anneth stepped away from Emily with hasty steps as though the girl was a curse, and Emily wondered if that notion were correct.

"Emily, you must sleep, someone will check on you in the morning, and food will be brought soon. But I warn you, a guard will be posted outside of your door throughout day and night." Gramps said, looking at her in such intensity that Emily's eyes began to water as she glared back.

"Fuck you." She said, her voice hard for once and not a miniscule squeak.

Anneth gasped and her eyes flew wide, although Gramps just kept staring at her, although his gaze had lost its intensity, and was it Emily's imagination, or had his eyes gathered an amused gleam? And has his mouth just quirked up in a grin?

"Till we next meet." Gramps said, spinning on a heal and striding out of the oak door, Anneth, who threw one last glare over her shoulder followed him out, shutting the door behind her with a almost thunderous click.

Emily's legs gave out form under her, the wind seemed to have been knocked out of her chest as a wave of panic rushed through her veins. When Anneth had turns to glare at her, her hair had been slightly dislodged, revealing a very pointy and very real looking pale ear.

_Ohdeargimminycricket. What. The. Hell_. Emily thought with ragged breaths.

* * *

"Dammit!" Arwen exclaimed looking down at the unconscious Aragorn with concern, "I knew I shouldn't have done it." She shook her head and began pacing, her immaculate dark hair swaying with every step she took as she muttered about the stupidity that she had said anything.

Abruptly there was a shouted curse and then, "ARWEN!"

Everyone seemed to gather themselves; even the unconscious Aragorn seemed to stir although he did not appear to have fully awoken. Arwen stopped her pacing, Legolas stopped shaking his head, Glorfindel stood straighter, Erestor opened his eyes and Elladan stopped using the wall for support as one might use a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

All eyes and heads swivelled to Elrohir, whose face was pale but spotted with flecks of red, his eyes spilling deserter tears down his face, "Arwen for Eru's sake is it really you?" His voice choked at the end, and he fought hard to control a sob that bubbled through his chest. He felt sick, so very sick, like something had been ripped open. Sure, he had spoken to 'The oracle' and Aragorn before, once or twice, but normally their communication was done by letter and correspondence. Elladan had always just accepted that although he would see the embodiment of Aragorn occasionally –and only then very briefly- he had always accepted the death of his sister. He had mourned for so long, so many nights had he been plagued by nightmares and woken shouting his sisters name, only to have Elladan come running in. But his brother, for all the love he could give him, could never kiss his forehead right, or smooth down his hair just how Arwen had done it, so much like their Naneth had his sister's touch been, that he had craved it for years after his mother had left for the undying lands.

"Oh Elrohir…" Arwen cried softly, her eyes so clear were pooling with tears as she ran forward, her arms outstretched. For Elrohir, the scene seemed to happen in slow motion, he took note of the black robes swirling around her feet as she ran towards him. He saw her in slow motion discard her gloves, and he almost cried as he saw her beautiful hands once more, the hands that had been able to banish all his worries away. And lastly, before she was upon him, he saw her face; she had not aged a day, her face so fair it was hard to look at it after all these years…God he loved her so much, his sister, the fair Undomiel.

Suddenly she was upon him, her long arms circling his frame and a heartbeat after the initial shock of the realness of the situation, Elrohir's arms turned upwards and wrapped around her small frame. As if from a distance, Elrohir could hear someone's sobs, rib-cracking cries of relief and love. And for a moment, he didn't realise it was his sobs. His cries who drowned out even his own sister's quiet weeping as she held him just as tightly as he held her. He could faintly here whoops of laughter and merriment and others crying around him, and soon, he could feel other hands enclose the two of them, fitting together in their, and for fear of sounding too corny, 'circle of re-united love'.

In all of the darkness, through it all, no matter what happened. He had them back. Aragorn, his brother so close to him in heart and spirit, and his sister, who was no different than him or Elladan in other than gender. By Eru he had them back, and by the stars he would fight to keep them this time. Things were different, they were darker yet lighter, and hopefully, the fact that the two loved ones before him were even allowed on the boat meant something- meant that they could come further, to Valinor. Opening his eyes, Elrohir blindly wondered where all of his poetic thoughts had come from, and then as if in an after though wondered if anyone had checked to see if Aragorn was alright after he fainted at the sight of his beloved.

It was a while afterwards, when all but Elladan and Elrohir had let go of Arwen and had left the room, that the two brothers finally let their sisters go, their faces damp and their eyes puffed slightly and red, and if looked closely, Elrohir's nose was slightly running. The brother's held their sister at arms length, their eyes sweeping, analysing and memorising everything about her. Her dishevelled hair where hands hand gripped her head to their chests, her rosy cheeks that were damp with tears that hadn't entirely stopped falling. She gave them a watery smile, her mouth trembling although not in fear or sadness for once, but in complete and in utter joy. They smiled back, their smiles just as watery but their eyes just as bright, shoulders relaxed and happy for the first time in months.

There came a groan from behind them, and all three elves turned their heads to the weary Aragorn who was slowly awakening. Shaking his head to clear his muggy thoughts and rubbing furiously at his eyes. He chuckled a little hysterically, "Men…Call me crazy but I just had the-" he paused and looked up, his eyes widening and his breaths coming quicker.

"I- er…" Elladan began and then faltered as they watched Aragorn leap to his feet and practically run to the other side of the room.

"I take this as our cue to leave." Elrohir finished with a grin to his sister, and an apologetic smile to Aragorn who looked as though he'd just seen the ghost of Christmas' past. Which in reality, he had.

Arwen nodded her head and smiled, watching her two brothers leave the room with soundless feet. Biting on her bottom lip, the fair woman took a massive steadying breath, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking and turned in a slow ark to look at her husband with slightly fearful eyes.

There was a expectant pause, then Arwen murmured, so quietly Aragorn had to lean forward to catch her words, "Hello my love…It's been a while."

* * *

It was three hours after Anneth and Gramps had left, that Emily's panic button seemed to go from nervous yellow to the bright glowing red of 'holy shit I'm shackled to a bed on a random boat' and, well, it was around that time that the screaming started.

The guard outside was rubbing his ear, although the walls were thick, they weren't _that_ thick, and the girl inside was putting up a fight, that's for sure. No matter what he could say about the human race, he couldn't say they weren't determined.

A soft patter of distant feet made him look up and cock his head dot the side, waiting for the person to come around the corner. The corridor was long, all rich browns and a couple doors with no room numbers, veering off at one end down another passageway. Candles placed strategically on the walls lit up the hallway with an even glow and a window at the end of the hall provided some sunlight. When the person arrived with a flurry of blue dress he smiled, recognising a _peredhel_ called Anneth who had been stationed to kitchen duty earlier on in the journey. Her hair was tied in one long plait, bits of wayward curls sticking out in any direction and she seemed to be struggling to keep the tray in her hands level.

"Do you need help, Anneth?" The guard asked, a slight smirk upon his lips as he watched her.

Anneth glared at him in response, squared her shoulders and walked as though the world was at her feet, "No, Erynion, I do _not_ need your help." She answered, her voice annoyed.

Erynion's smirk grew as he watched her wince as one of the girl's shrieks for help pierced her ears, "My God," Anneth murmured, "How long has she been like that?" She asked, coming to a stop beside the guard, keeping a good two feet distance from the man. Erynion smirked again, he seemed to make her nervous, that was something he could always work with- from a mischief making point of view that is.

"For the better part of an hour," Erynion replied off-handed, as though the screaming really hadn't given him ear ache, or the things the girl had said hadn't made him blush.

Anneth shook her head, "Just open the door, Erynion." She said, cocking an eyebrow and smirking a little as Erynion straightened up from where he had been leaning against the door and fitted a key into the lock, twisting it towards the right and bringing the lock back. The room went quiet, and Erynion frowned but shrugged his shoulders, opening the door a crack and seeing the girl sitting on the bed, wild haired and wild eyed. Her eyes looked red and the room was a mess. She had tipped over the trunk in front of the bed. The quill and paper set which had been placed neatly on her table were strewn all over the floor, the ink bottle smashed into glass pieces, the dark ink hard to see as it stained the wood floor. The tables and chairs were oddly fine, and it took Erynion a moment to realise why.

The girl was tied to the bed, and it seemed that the length of rope wouldn't extend that far. The guard almost let out a sigh, if she had been allowed near the fire…he shuddered to think of the damage she could have done to the ship.

Anneth pushed past him and gasped at the sight of the room, her steps faltered for a moment and then took on a determined stride as she walked to the table where the ink pot had been only hours before. She set the tray down and looked towards the girl, almost jumping when she saw the girls eyes were completely black, there was no white- just blackness. The girls' mouth was pulled back into a snarl and she seemed not to see Anneth but her eyes werte trained on her as a hawk might train his eyes on his prey. Anneth breathed deeply, and stepped sideways back to Erynion, all the while keeping an eye on the strange girl. When she was back by the door, she practically dragged Erynion out and shut the door behind her quickly, breathing deeply as the guard locked the door, turning the key left and sliding the lock home.

"…Did you see…?" Anneth asked, not needing to finish her sentence as she looked up worriedly to the frowning guard.

"Yes." He replied, his voice troubled as he glanced back at the door.

Anneth wrung her hands together in a nervous gesture, "What is she?" She asked quietly, glancing quickly to the door and then turning her head back around to the guard.

There was a pause and Erynion looked down at her, his face set. Abruptly, he smiled and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "She is human, it was probably a trick of the light. Go on now, back to the kitchens with you." He said jokingly, giving her a playful push back down the hallway.

Anneth grinned and turned her head back to stick her tongue out at him before gliding down the corridor and then around the corner, out of sight and hearing range. Erynion assyumed his pasiton was once more standing guard. Upon instructions from Gandalf, he had been told not to go in other than to give her food. If she shouted or pleaded, he was not to go in. So that was why, after a tremendous crash and a howl of rage, Erynion stood guard, and didn't give into her pleas as she shouted for someone to let her go free, although he couldn't wuite keep the grimace off his face. Needless to say, the screaming continued for quite a while, her words gaining more vulgarity and even more frequency as she got desperate, feeling the ship's occasionally lurch as it glided across the sea on its long journey home. To Valinor.

* * *

Hey guys, so thank you for reading this, I'm so happy this has been getting such good reception aha

I've completely noticed that all the people without accounts leave the reviews and the people with the accounts just click 'favourite story' or 'story alert' Ahaha which is exactly what Ii do, so I'm happy for you account people's contributions aha

I'm sorry it's taken a while to write this, I've just started college and I can't even explain how stupidly tired I am. Seriously, I'm emotionally, physically, metaphysically, morally, imaginationaly, and just generally, drained. Ahaha anyways, thanks for holding out on me, and I hope you enjoy this short little chapter; I had to split it down the middle because it was too long again aha

Anyways, I'll try and update like every Friday, but if I have loads of essays due it'll be cut down to once every two weeks, and when exams hit, maybe once every month, but its okay, because I will update, I promise you that. I have this thing, where I get severely bored of a story and just don't update, which is bad, but I'm trying my best to get this one up and running, and you guys are helping so much (:

I realise I haven't actually given any praise or recognition to the anonymous reviewers who grace me with their great reviews, so I will do this now:

**Star;**

_Thank you so much for your reviews, and that chapter was totally for you because I know you've been craving to see when they'd find out she wasn't who she led them to believe she was. Thanks for reviewing and please keep reading! x_

**Ladyofrivendell;**

_I shall keep up the good work ! But only if you keep reviewing aha Ii hope you enjoy this chapter, although it is a little bit short aha forgive me x_

**Lady of the night;**

_Your feeling of Glorfindel and Elladan snapping has been completely proved! Ahaha I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you seemed to enjoy the last, keep reading! x_

**Sexyninjalady;**

_Aha I know right? What's the one way to get a guy to do what you want without asking any questions? Just mention three little letters: PMS. Aha , keep reading though, I hope you like this new chapter x_

Anyways, guys thank you for reading, and although I love reviews telling me how good it is, if anyone has any suggestions or anything to help me make it any better, I'd love to hear them !

Thanks again,

Kira xx


	8. Chapter 7

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

_Chapter 7: The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth._

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer: **Although I have taken such liberties with this story, and have twisted it horrible, that poor Mr. Tolkien is probably crying up in the great library of the skies, I did not do this to make money. I did this for entertainment purposes, for the members and non members of that, despite my horrendous writing skills, like to read what I've written. So, once again in simpler terms, this is for fun, not for money, and everything book-verse, movie-verse and the like belong to the amazing JRR. Tolkien, and I thank him for it.

**A/N**: Well well well, we're back to another update Friday (well it will be friday in about an hour aha) (: I hope you enjoy this, I certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took stupidly long. I've been keeping all of Emily's secrets tucked up my sleeve for far too long and was itching to tell everyone. So, in answer to some requests and un-asked questions, here are the answers you've been waiting for, or, well, some of them aha Anyways, thank you for reading so far, and I hope you continue to read! If you're a regular, welcome back my little elflings, and if you are new, welcome to the humble and crazy world of Emily Elias, the twin who shouldn't have been (; xx

* * *

It had been three days.

Three long and tiring days of screaming, reunions and ship lurches that left even the most sea hardened slightly green about the gills. The sun had just set not an hour before, and twilight had descended upon the vast Atlantic ocean as they sailed north, bathing both ships in a navy blue cover of darkness. The two ships sailed one behind the other, far away enough that no complications would ensue, but close enough that the ships behind could always see the one in front. The placement of the ships varied as one let the other over take her at random intervals. If anyone had bothered to be up on the deck, they'd have been privy to what was actually a beautiful night. But alas, everyone was not on the deck, save the captain whose sharp eyes were trained of the dark seas before him rather than trained on the first stars starting to shine out of their daily sleep.

Many of the ships inhabitants were in the dining room, enjoying the nights supper with sweet wine and cheerful laughter to accompany their heart warmed meal. The room was packed all but of one unoccupied table, which was bare save for the oak wood it was made upon. The inhabitants of this particular table were elsewhere, in fact, they were in a bright room all seated around an oval mahogany table, the same table in deed, that Emily had witnessed Gandalf, or 'Gramps' sitting at when she first boarded the ship, Turian.

The room itself was big, all oak panels and wood floors. A gleaming Art Nouveau style chandelier hung swinging lightly above their heads and was left to illuminate the room with its flickering white light glow. The mahogany table stood in the middle of the room, gleaming under the lights of the chandelier directly above it and various candelabrums placed around the room, its presences strong and mighty, giving strength to those seated around it. A fireplace stood towards the back of the room, its logs burning brightly; four chairs sat in front of it, slightly blocking off its intense light. Paintings were hung on the walls, the fair faces of the great and beautiful staring down on the assembled group with smiling, carefree faces.

The inhabitants around the table were talking quietly, occasional laughs punctuating the quiet murmuring although one seat at the table was still empty, the empty chair sat at the head of the table where the oval table narrowed. Glorfindel sat on the right side of the empty chair, and on _his_ right sat Elladan who was laughing with Elrohir who sat next to him. Aragorn sat opposite the empty seat, around the other side of the table where the oval came to a soft round semi circle once more. Sitting on Aragorn's right, and opposite her brother Elrohir, sat the oracle, newly named as the re-born Arwen Undomiel, who was of course, clutching Aragorn's hand while deep in conversation with him, both murmuring words of love for one another- they had been inseparable with one another since their reunion, and, too joyous about Arwen's return no one had begun the endless teasing that they were two peas in a pod once more. Arwen's right side was occupied by Legolas who sat opposite Elladan and next to a laughing Erestor who sat on the other side of the empty chair, laughing hysterically at a joke Elladan had told at Glorfindel's expense. To which the twice born balrog slayer laughed and clipped Elladan upside the head in a fatherly fashion. The laughter died down at the door creaked open quietly, revealing a smiling Gandalf as he closed the door behind him just as quietly and walked to his empty chair, using his staff, although he didn't need it for support.

As he sat down in a flourish of white robes, he set his staff down to lean against the table in an upright position, clasping his hands in front of him on the table and making eye contact with each person at the table.

"Friends," He murmured with a smile that was almost completely swallowed by his thick beard.

"Gandalf," Came the quiet replies from the smiling faces as they waited for him to proceed with the meeting.

"Friends, I have assembled you here today to finally discuss that which has probably been trying on your minds science we came aboard Turian, and that is of course, Emily Elias, the twin that shouldn't have been." Legolas scowled and muttered something about keeping her on a leash and that his leg was still a little stiff. The group gave a chuckle and Gandalf smiled and continued as if there had been no interruption.

"As I am sure you have many questions, I will try and answer what I can from obtained and collected knowledge of mine and the now unclothes oracle," Arwen blushed a pale pink colour, and used her free hand to push a strand of hair behind her pointed ear in a self conscious manner, seeing this, Aragorn gave her hand a squeeze and gave her a reassuring smile.

"The girl was born on December twenty-first on a winter solstice seventeen years ago," His voice rasped, as he captured everyone's attention, his grey eyes unreadable as he regarded everyone, "Hey mother is un-known," He began, but was interrupted by Glorfindel.

"How can her mother be unknown?" He asked, his confusion shown in the crease in his otherwise unblemished forehead. "We watched the house for six years, how-"

Gandalf cut him off with a wave of his hands, talking over him although not unkindly, "That was a decoy of sorts," He explained, "She was an Edain whose memory was wiped and replaced with false images," Gandalf explain, "The woman you followed who thought that she was in fact their birth mother, was actually a British woman who had gone missing the day Emily and her sister turned six. Her real name is Kathryn Church and hailed from Whitechapel, London." Glorfindel nodded at his words, as though it all made perfect sense, though his handsome face was still set in a grimace as Elrohir's eyes widened upon hearing the new information.

"Now, where was I?" Gandalf asked absently, drumming his fingers against his chin in a repetitive motion, "Ah. Yes, her mother is unknown- thought to be deceased and her father is, of course, Sauron."

An outcry followed his words; multiple gasps, curses and low growls emitted from the table as the old Maia waited for the others to collect themselves from the shock. It was indeed, quite a many minutes before anyone could form a coherent thought let alone a question.

Erestor was the first to acquire speech, and asked the question all had been trying to wrap their heads around, "How is this possible?" He choked out, his face pale and his grey eyes wide with horror.

"We assume," Gandalf began, "When the dark lord was reborn in the form of Richard Elias- Emily's father- he impregnated the children's birth mother." He said calmly, as though he said the same thing everyday so casually, "Now, here is the puzzling part. Emily and her sister, Sarah lived with their birth mother until they were six." Gandalf said, although his voice was uncertain, "Six wasn't it?" He asked, turning his head towards Arwen. To which she nodded and gave a slight incline of her head- a silent question as she asked if she could continue while Gandalf stretched out a hand in approval to her request.

"We can only presume," She said, pausing to cough a little to clear her throat, "That the sisters lived with the re-embodied Sauron and their maternal mother for their first six years; although there is evidence to show that our presumptions are correct. We know this as the sisters simply didn't exist- there was no record of them ever being born; no birth certificates, no registrations, nothing. But as soon as they turned six, suddenly their details appeared on all of their systems, and I could actually see them." She said, referring to the sight she had gotten when she was re-born. "As soon as their details were posted on the system, Kathryn Church was listed as their birth mother and of Richard Elias as their birth father. We knew no better. Until after you took Emily and I went back to the house, only to find it empty of the other twin and her father while her supposed mother Kathryn was calling the police and asking where she was." Arwen paused for breath, "We can assume from that, that Kathryn remembered nothing of her life as Emily's mother, and only believes that she has been kidnapped from eleven years ago.

"The girls themselves, like their mother, have no outward recollection of their maternal mother. Sauron has, for lack of a better term, taken their memories." She said her face grave while Aragorn gripped her hand ever more assuredly tight.

Gandalf nodded and took Arwen's silence for his cue to continue, "Sauron is indeed her father- disguised as he was as Richard Elias. We believe Richard came into his 'awakening' when the girls were six," He said, "Mainly due o the fact that he was very abruptly an enormously important man who had a lot of power in the state of New York. And therefore, as we know and assume, for Sauron to find a way back from the void, to once again try and stake a claim on Arda he must have help. External support in the form of two mortals; the last remaining puzzle pieces." Gandalf sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in a weary manor. Letting his hand slip down to rest lightly on the table he nodded to Arwen, "In this aspect, the Lady Undomiel knows many more secrets than I."

Arwen gave a quick nod, and her voice, when she next spoke was as hard as steel, tinged in a sheet of ice, "They were just children," She spat out, "Undeserving of the things some to them," she said, her hand, although encased in Aragorn's was balled up into a tiny fist.

"What things were done to them?" Elrohir asked quietly, speaking for the first time while staring at his who sat opposite to him.

"There were experiments. Born for one person and then to be destroyed," Arwen began, talking a deep breath. "Sarah and Emily have no memories or recollections of their previous life, as stated, but its worse that than." She looked to her other brother, "Elladan, you mentioned she knew Sindarin?" She asked.

"Yes, she said odd words at first, and then, on the way to the ships Elrohir recalled that she was able to converse with him- ask him where he was from, and carry conversation in our tongue." Elladan said, his brow creased in confusion as he wondered what on earth this had to do with memories.

Arwen nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression upon her face, "Yes, I would imagine she knows Sindarin perfectly, as well as our history and the other dialects of the Eldar." Arwen said, and was met by undisguised confusion. "She knows yet she does not know," Again, confusion on everyone's faces and Arwen shook her head a small smile flitting across her face at her brother's slack jaw expression, "When she remembers she forgets. Sauron didn't simply take her memories from her; he took from her the ability to make memories on anything that could lead back to is true nature." She said, grinning a little as Elladan's expression cleared up and he nodded his head as though he had known what she was talking about all along. "Although that is not all." She finished, her expression sobering quickly, her voice taking on the sharpened edge it had earlier.

"The twins' blood," She continued, "Is not pure. From their birth mother they acquired some elven blood, although the amount is too minimal for the girls to be a peredhel, though it _is_ enough to allow them to be quick on their feet, and to heal faster than a normal human rate as in the case of her broken foot, Elladan told me about. But that was from their mother." She paused, "From their father, well, of course she had his human blood and possibly a very small amount of Maia blood, though it is hard to determine. What can be determined though is that their blood is halfway foul."

Legolas' face scrunched up with incomprehension, "Halfway foul?" She asked, "How can human blood be any way foul?"

Arwen nodded as though she had been expecting this very question and took a breath to steady her voice, "Human blood can become foul, Legolas, when it is filled with Orc blood." This time, there was no silence to follow her words as curses in every language were shouted and everyone at the table began talking at once. A chorus of "I should have known" and "How is this possible?" and "I always thought he blood smelled funny" erupted around the table, although the last one was from Elrohir and it earned him a few small smiled before seriousness was back on the agenda and everyone turned to Arwen once more to hear her explanation. "Elladan," She said, "The blackness of her eyes that you, Anneth and Erynion saw- that is her Orc blood. It reacts badly with her human blood and an internal battle seems to be going on, sometimes her humanity wins, and sometimes… sometimes it doesn't." She explained and the mood of the room dropped to near depression levels as everyone's shoulder's tensed due to the harrowing news.

A thoughtful silence descended upon the glowing room as Arwen quietened down, each person digesting and processing the news they had been given; however horrible and unconceivable as it may have been. Gandalf, reading the shocked anger and distress on the groups' faces gave them a minute or two before continuing.

"We must tell her nothing." He rasped, his face grave, "We cannot tell her any of this. Not who her father really is, what she really as in reference to a half Orc if we can call her that. None of it. You must not tell her." He repeated the command in his voice loud and compelling, the urgency of the situation conveyed in his desperate voice. "If she knows she will not fight and by We need her to fight. What Sauron made will be his undoing, we need her." He said, "You cannot tell her." His last command hung in the air as the grim faces nodded their agreement.

Sensing the meeting to be over and the group having come to a slight decision and understanding, Gandalf stood, pulling his staff with him, "Now, if you will excuse me, I think the head cook has saved us all some dinner, I shall go and tell her to prepare it." He said, already walking to the door, his voice echoing with every step, opening the door in one motion he turned his head back to smile apologetically at Elrohir and Glorfindel. "Glorfindel, Elrohir, please go and get Emily, Anneth has told me she has eaten next to nothing for three days and we must not allow her to waste away. And plus," He added thoughtfully, "I think it is time she met us all in not quite so brutal circumstances." And with that he was through the door with a rustle of white robes just as he had come in, closing the door behind him with a click leaving the confused group to mull over the information they had received.

* * *

The group had dispersed, going to ready themselves for a late dinner aboard the ship, though Elrohir and Glorfindel however took a different route to collect Emily before the meal. The walk to her guarded quarters was silent, each elf deep in thought. Elrohir was wondering if Anneth had been completely truthful when she said the girl hadn't eaten in three days, and Glorfindel was wondering how the girl would react to seeing him again. Turning down the candle lit corridor, Glorfindel smiled seeing his old comrade in arms.

"Erynion!" He called out, a grin upon his lips, all previous worries about the girl forgotten.

"Commander Glorfindel," Erynion returned with a nod of his head and a slight salute.

Glorfindel chuckled lightly, "Come now, Erynion, we have known each other too long for such formalities, just plain Glorfindel will do." He said, with a smile that widened as Erynion's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Yes…Yes of course Com- Glorfindel," He stammered to correct himself. And it was true, the twice born slayer had known Erynion from an elflings and had trained him to be one of the best. Under Glorfindel's strong willed hand he had turned from a unruly dark haired wild blue eyed elflings to a cool and controlled warrior. It was good to see him again. Suddenly, a wave of homesickness slammed into Glorfindel and his smile faltered for a moment, the need to get to Valinor was an aching hole in his stomach, greedy and waiting to be filled. Seeing old friends wasn't enough anymore, Glorfindel realised, it wasn't enough to satisfy the whole, he need to feel the white sand of the shores under his feet, smell the sweet smells of fruit. He needed home.

Astray in his thoughts, it took Glorfindel a moment to realise Elrohir and Erynion were having a conversation. Snapping back into reality, he shoved his longing down once more to rejoin the land of the living, "…been kicking a screaming none stop, save for when she fell asleep from exhaustion. Eaten bites of this and that then she throws the plates at the walls, the room is a tip. Anneth takes her out twice or thrice a day to use the bathroom, although she has nothing in her stomach to empty if you ask me." Erynion was saying with a bleak expression, shaking his head in confusion. "Shouts abuse at whoever enters the room although she's been strangely quiet for about an hour, she's probably sleeping." He said, and Glorfindel noticed that Erynion had an accent, last time he had spoken to him, his voice had no accent other than the normal of the elves.

On impulse, Glorfindel dove in with a question, "Erynion," He began, gaining the attention of the soldier, although Elrohir had his ear pressed against the girl's door trying to hear any signs of movement or life. "Where have you been living for the past, what? Two hundred years?" He asked, a curious glint in his eye as he watched Erynion blush once again.

"Just south of the border," He said and then, noticing the confused glance of Glorfindel, carried on hurriedly, "South of the border of France," He completed and Glorfindel smirked as he noticed the reddening of Erynion's ears.

"And who did you live there with?" Glorfindel asked with a smug expression, watching Erynion flounder for an answer.

Erynion's face turned a shade of crimson quite fascinating, so enthralling in fact, was the shade of red, that Elrohir pulled his head from the door to watch the soldier's humiliation more closely. "I-Er-we," He stammered, "I had a, um…" He faltered for the right word, "I had a…partner…a woman, for a little bit…" He said, rubbing his reddening neck with a large hand in a self-conscious fashion. Glorfindel couldn't contain his glee and after a moment burst out in a round of booming laughter, raising a hand to clap Erynion on the shoulder.

"My dear boy, there's nothing wrong with becoming a man," He taunted, chuckling as Erynion's eyes flashed with annoyance as he shrugged off Glorfindel's hand, his face flushed with anger now, more than embarrassment.

"Just because you-" He began before Elrohir slapped a hand over his mouth with a nervous chuckle.

"I think we should go in now," Elrohir said, lowering his hand and shooting Erynion a warning look to keep him quiet. The last thing Elrohir needed on his hands was a pissed off Glorfindel, they already had one teenager, and they didn't need another. Motioning for Erynion to unlock the door, Glorfindel stepped forward and waited with weariness to survey the so-called damage of the room.

Emily's door slid open slowly, letting in the brighter light of the hallway to further illuminate the dim room. The room itself was in a complete mess, chairs were overturned, the writing desk lay on its side smashed remains of plates lay in heaps on the floor while food and waiter stained the walls where hey had been thrown with force and left to slide down the walls. Emily herself was lying in a heap on the bed, or what would have been the bed had the mattress not been kicked halfway across the room and the pillows along with it. No, Emily Elias was in fact lying on the hard wood shell of a bed, and really, Elrohir thought she looked quite peaceful even though her eyes were open and staring at him and Glorfindel in a way that could only be described as hateful. Elrohir thought she looked smaller than she had before, clean but smaller, and he realised that Anneth had probably been right in saying she hadn't eaten for three days.

"Emily?" Elrohir asked hesitantly, sidestepping the remains of a broken plate, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

There was no answer for a moment, only her continued unwavering stare with eyes as dark as coals. And then she opened her mouth and for a second there was no sound and then, "Get him out." She rasped quietly, her voice harsh and Elrohir, who was flanked by Glorfindel on his right, had side stopped by the foot of her bed to look at her more closely.

Glorfindel frowned, "Get who out?" Elrohir asked quietly, resisting the urge to ask her to close her eyes which were a malignant black. Remembering what Arwen had said about her tainted blood he grimaced slightly at what he now knew fuelled the strange colour of her eyes and the memory loss that almost always accompanied it. "Emily…?"

"Get him out!" She near but shouted, jumping up from the bed and glaring at the two elves in a hysterical fashion. Her hair was dishevelled and her face had tight lines of stress upon them, her clothes hung baggy in places that they didn't before and her stance was tense. All in all, she looked a damn mess. Her eyes while glaring at Glorfindel faded from that unnatural all black to a her usual mix of blue and green, and Elrohir, despite himself cocked his head to the side in curiosity as the black seemed to drain away from her eyes leaving in its place her colourful iris. "I said, "She began, her voice hard, glaring once again at Glorfindel, "To get him out- I don't feel like getting slapped so hard it leaves a bruise." And as if to prove her point she turned her head to the side to show a purpling bruise on her left cheek.

Emily smiled in satisfaction as she watched Glorfindel's eyes flash with regret and a little bit of pain. Good, she thought angrily, let him feel all the regret in the world, he deserves it.

"My lady I-" Glorfindel started his voiced pain and his green eyes glittering with remorse to which Emily raised only one dark blonde eyebrow and cut him off, holding up her bound hands, the wrists bloodied and savage looking. "Untie my hands." She said, turning to look at Elrohir, not showing any more acknowledgements that Glorfindel had tried to apologise.

His words trailed off and Emily resisted the urge to smirk at his puzzled expression. Keeping her eyes on Elrohir and keeping her face blank, she waited for the dark haired man's shocked expression to fade, shoving her hands out in front of her again to further emphasise the point that she needed her bonds cut.. Gaining a hold of himself Elrohir stepped forward, pulling a blade from his belt in one quick motion- so fast in fact that Emily's eyes watered as she tried to follow his fluid movements. In a flash of dark hair Elrohir could be here or there, and one day, Emily vowed, he's gonna teach me how to do it.

With a flick of his wrist the red stained rope tying Emily's hands to the bed fell away, leaving two more bruised and bloodied wrists, although this time admittedly it looked a lot worse- if the persistent sting Emily could feel was anything to go by then her wrists were going to take a while to heal.

Glorfindel, having recovered from his initial shock at having been shot down so fast followed Emily's annoyed gaze and gasped when he saw the state of her wrists, "Aye!" He exclaimed, his face set in a grimace as he stepped forward, a hand outstretched to take her wrists and look at them. Emily, misjudging his intentions jumped back with a protest, one of her hands cradling the other in an instinctive way. The room was filled with static as Glorfindel's face seemed to harden as he watched Emily's eyes dart hastily from him to Elrohir and back again.

"Emily…All is okay, we just want to take you to dinner…" Elrohir said, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm, taking a step towards Emily, "I just want to take a look at your wrists, just to make sure they're okay. Glorfindel meant no harm." As he spoke, Elrohir took small steps and eventually he found himself in front of Emily, slowly taking her small hands into his own to inspect the damage. Biting his lip, he resisted the urge to sigh; it was only a wonder how she had damaged her hands this badly in just three days. Taking a bandage from his pocket, he wrapped both of her wrists in the gaze and nodded reassuringly, "It will heal, slowly, but it will heal." He said smiling.

"Why are you in here?" She questioned suddenly her eyes holding suspicions, "Why have you come? What do you want from me now?"

"I told you," Elrohir said, stepping back to give her space, "We're here to take you to dinner."

"Bullshit." She said venomously, "I've already been given food, why are you here?"

Elrohir frowned, "Emily, please don't make this difficult-"

"Difficult?" She said her eyes wide with disbelief, "You're telling me not to be difficult? Are you completely insane? No. Yes, you are. Of course you are, otherwise you wouldn't have kidnapped me and told me you were an ELF!" She shouted, and despite her anger she was mortified to feel tears prick the back of her eyelids.

"Enough of this!" Glorfindel shouted, putting an end to whatever Elrohir was about to shout back to Emily. For Emily's part her eyes widened and she took another step back, making the space between her and the two elves ever larger, her eyes darting from them to the closed door. "You insolent girl, you will come with us now, whether you are complacent or kicking and screaming!"

"Oh yeah? I wanna see you _try_." Emily said, her arms resting upon her hips, a defiant glint in her eyes.

* * *

And so it was, ten minutes later, that Emily found herself flung over Glorfindel's shoulder, as he carried her to the dining room kicking and screaming. _Literally_, kicking and screaming. It's a wonder I haven't broken one of his ribs, she thought with mild satisfaction as she pounded her fists against his back, shouting insults about his mother, brother, sister and supposed cat called Frank. Emily huffed, as he head swam due to her being totally upside down. All she could see was the moving floor as Glorfindel walked- practically ran- to the mysterious dining room. She could hear a set of footsteps just in front of her head and she knew that Elrohir, master of words, was following and by the slight coughs she could hear, she knew he was also laughing at her.

"Laugh all you want, I'll push you down the stairs once this brute lets me go." She warned, a threat in her voice although muffled by her hanging hair which was, over her face and which also was dragging on the floor.

Emily tried to count how long it had taken Glorfindel to carry her to the dining room, but she lost count after five minutes. It wasn't long after that that she was roughly being dumped unceremoniously down onto a chair and had eight pairs of eyes watching her curiously. Awkward, she thought, resisting the urge to start laughing in her fear. Instead of face the staring, Emily looked around at her surrounding's, in what she assumed to be the 'dinning room'.

For one thing, the room was vast, with a door in the far left of the room to which she assumed lead to a kitchen, although apart from the people staring at her, there was no one else in the room. The walls were a dark wood, with a dull vanish. The table she sat on wasn't the only one, there were many more around their own, although the others were bare and had far less seating that the one she was sat at. Their table seemed to stand at the head of the room, it was also the longest, and from under the pale table cloths, she could see that the wood gleamed brightly as though it was polished every day of the year. Focusing on the table, Emily realised that everything was set out in the form of an elaborate tea party setting. There were silver plates, silver goblets, fine cutlery, food that could have fed about two hundred people, all laid out in an elaborate and detailed take on what a medieval feast may have appeared like. Looking down with confusion Emily realised she had about three spoons, two forks, and a weird looking knife. Raising an eyebrow, she wondered how on earth she was supposed to know which utensil to use.

It took a while, but before long, Emily realised that the whole table was quiet, and, realising that she couldn't go on pretending not to see them, she looked straight ahead only to lock eyes with non other than Elladan. Turning her expression into a scowl, she moved to the person sitting on the right of him, which was, unsurprisingly, Elrohir. Her bad mood intensified. Sitting next to him was Goldilocks, and sitting next to goldilocks was the guy whose tea she had spilled. Gramps sat next to him, then the unkempt guy. Turning to her right, Emily realised that she was sat next to a stupidly beautiful woman, who's grey eyes seemed to lock with hers and not let go. God, its almost physical pain to keep looking at her, Emily thought, resisting the strange impulse to start crying and throw a tantrum because she didn't look like the lady. Wrenching her eyes away from her weird ones, she looked to her left and almost threw a fit. The glorious, the magnificent, the pain in the freakin arse, Glorfindel was sat beside her. And beside him was a man she remembered vaguely from her first night. If it was possible, her scowl deepened and she made to get up, only for someone to shove her back down again.

"Ah. Emily, what a pleasure it is that you have joined us," Gramps said, his voice cheerful as he watched her. She threw him an incredulous look, her eyes wide. He was joking wasn't he? She thought, he has to be, he can't actually think I'm here by my own free will, not unless he's crazy. Hah! She countered, of course he's crazy, he probably thinks he's an elf as well.

"Er. 'Pleasure' wouldn't be the word I would use." She muttered, glaring at Elladan once again for good measure.

"And what would the word that you would use be?" Someone asked, and Emily, not bothering to look away from Elladan raised a single eyebrow.

"Kidnap." She said, "I would use the word 'kidnap'." A grim smile followed her words and Elladan narrowed his eyes at her.

And awkward silence fell into place as everyone shuffled nervously while Emily smarted. No one had dare start to eat and Gandalf was watching Emily with the eyes of a hawk. My God, if this idiotic fool of an old man does not stop staring at me I swear to God I'll shave his beard while he sleeps.

The old guy cleared his throat and smiled again, although, Emily who looked back at him wasn't too sure if it even was a smile. His mouth was so covered by his beard and god his eyebrows were ridiculously large. And why's he all in white? She thought, doesn't he know it'll just get dirty by the end of the day? In fact, come to think of it, she noticed his hair was a pure white as well. "My name, Emily, is Gandalf the White." He said, and Emily, being the fool that she is started to laugh, earning herself glares from most of the people at the table.

"Gandalf the White?" She wheezed, "You-you've got to be kidding me. What kind of crack-addicted, cocaine using, imbecile kinda name is that?" She asked laughing, and it took her a moment to realise that this so called Gandalf the White had joined in with her laughter, causing her to quiet almost instantly.

"It is quite an unusual name isn't it?" He laughed out. Emily frowned, this wasn't working, she was supposed to insult him, and here he was, laughing along with her as though he got told his name was the product of a drug addicted imbecile's mind.

"Er…Yeah…" She replied uncertainly, and wasn't entirely surprised to find almost every face around her looking either completely confused or slightly put out because they weren't included in the joke.

Taking advantage of her stunned silence, the unkempt man leaned forward and gave a small smile to Emily, "My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn." He said, as though it were the most normal thing you said to someone on a daily basis.

"…I'm sorry, I don't remember meeting a 'Arathorn'." Emily replied, he brow creasing as she misinterpreted Aragorn's words. Elrohir covered his laughter with a few quick coughs and earned himself the pleasure of one of Emily's 'dark looks'.

The woman beside Emily gave a small laugh and although it wasn't directed at her, Emily took it as a personal insult. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that she was insanely beautiful and made Emily look like a dwarf compared to a swan. "No my dear, he was not asking if you know his father, that is merely how we address ourselves." She said kindly, although Emily grimaced when she realised her voice was just as beautiful as her face, as stupidly immature as she sounded, she wanted her mom to come cuddle her and tell her she was just as pretty. Snapping out of her thoughts she looked back to find the woman staring at her with those unnatural eyes.

"Well. No offense Aragorn son of Arathorn," She said, putting the emphasis on his weird name, "No one introduces themselves that way anymore…Not unless you're an insane kidnapper who thinks he's from the middle ages and doesn't know the meaning of the word 'shave'."

There was some muffled laughter after her words and one 'She has a point' while Arwen only smiled down at Emily as though she were something to be smiled at. When in reality, right now, Emily was something to be avoided because she was sure her hair was everywhere thanks to her forceful moving thanks to Glorfindel the town idiot.

"I am Arwen Undomiel," The woman said, the same eerie smile still on her face, "Aragorn is my husband." She said, and Emily saw her reach for Aragorn's hand and give it a squeeze. She in turn raised her eyebrows and regarded the woman once more. To her full lips, long dark hair, pale skin and intense eyes, she was surely to be the most beautiful woman Emily had ever seen. So why doesn't she do any modelling? Emily thought confusedly. Heck, she reflected upon, she could run for miss universe and still win.

"Oh really?" She asked without any emotion. "That's nice to know." Was all she replied though, keep it short and sweet, she kept telling herself, although she refrained from saying 'not' at the end and risking the chance of sounding like a spoilt five year old. Emily saw Arwen blink once, then twice, as the smile melted from her face, to be replaced by a frown. Emily almost felt guilty for having made the woman sad, but before the emotion could fester she pushed it aside; so what if she's upset? I'm being held against my will, I think I'm allowed to break a couple hearts along the way.

Some cleared their throat, "I am Prince Legolas Thranduilion, son of Thranduil." Emily's head snapped up at the introduction only to see Goldilocks staring at her with guarded eyes. I'm going to have fun with this one, she thought, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Oh so you're a prince?" She asked in a sweet voice, "Right right, I'll be sure to bow next time I see you. Maybe you'd like me to polish your shoes as well?" She asked her eyes wide, "Oh, and how's your leg your royal highness? Not bruised too much is it?" She asked a grin on her face as the air around her electrified with tension. She watched with enjoyment as Legolas' face flushed with fury and he sputtered an intelligible reply.

"I," someone cut in with a loud voice, effectively drowning out Legolas' heated reply, "Am Lindir." Said the man whose tea Emily had spilled, she let her eyes rest upon him and for a moment said nothing as she looked at him. And really looked at him. He had wide hazel eyes that held just the right amount of richness to make Emily fume that her eyes weren't so intense. His hair was blonde like Glorfindel's, straight and hung down his back in silky waves. His nose was narrow, chiselled in a way that screamed Michael Angelo's David. He was looking back at her, his eyes curious as he regarded her staring. Choosing not to insult him, she gave a quick nod and turned to the one person she didn't know, the one seated next to Glorfindel and beside Gandalf the whatever.

He had dark hair, almost raven black, and stormy seemed fathomless. His skin was pale yet his lips and cheeks were a pale pink colour, in a harsh way he was beautiful. And Emily found herself trying to figure out how his chin seemed to taper to a point, how his cheek bones stood out, and how his eyes seems to show nothing and all at the same time. All in all, she wasn't too sure if she wanted to insult _this_ one.

"I am Erestor of Imladris, chief advisor to Lord Elrond." He said with an incline of his head. Emily narrowed his eyes at him, like she cared who she advised; if he was any good he wouldn't have advised this so and so Elrond to kidnap her.

"That's cool." Was all she said, and her smile turned smug as she saw the so called chief advisor look a bit put out. He probably thought I was going to praise him for being so high and mighty, she thought opposing the urge to laugh.

Gandalf clapped his hands, a booming laugh erupting form him that startled Emily senseless, "Well, enough with the pleasantries! Let us eat!" He proclaimed and a chorus of 'finally's and scrapings of forks filled the room in an odd serenade of music.

Emily sat still, not touching her plate, multiple knives and forks, or her random assortment of spoons. It wasn't that she wasn't hungry, oh no, she was starving. _Literally_. But she supposed not eating would cart her off the deep end far quicker than ever trying to escape and swim back to shore which was about three days away. Now, indeed that sounded suicidal but for pities sake, she was beyond caring at this point. Plus, she thought ruefully, they probably poisoned the chicken.

Glancing around the table, she noticed everyone eating with delicate fingers and with the utmost table manners, and by god, everyone had their elbows below the table line. No one laughed raucously, and It seemed to be an unspoken rule not to talk with your mouth full of stuffing. Thinking about it, Emily wasn't sure she'd seen anyone eat that way, certainly whenever she had stayed over at Dana's house – who had five brothers- no one ate like this, it was a much civilised affair. And she felt like crying even more so for it. Kidnappers? These people weren't kidnappers, they seemed really nice, and here she was being a bitch to them. But, she countered, they did kidnap me, and I am allowed to be a bitch. That's what Sarah would have done, Sari would have kicked them all in the mouth. She sighed quietly, she and been away from her sister too long, she couldn't even remember what that tune had been that Sarah used to always hum.

God she felt like crying. And not the crappy crying that cheerleaders always used to pull when their teams lost a game, how their faces scrunched up skilfully and their eyes watered a little bit never spilled over in case the tears messed up their makeup. No. She wanted to cry. Cry and scream and shout and kick and wipe her nose noisily and hate everything and everyone. But in a situation like this, she couldn't even blame the wannabe elf Elrohir, because she was to blame. Her and only her. She got herself into this mess and no one was going to get her out of it. For Christ's sake, she thought, I may as well give in now and save myself the heartache.

Lost as she was in her depressing self loathing thoughts she didn't notice Legolas' sharp eyes trained on her still hands and dangerously jutting bones. "Lady Emily?" He addressed her, causing Emily's head to snap up so fast she was sure she heard a few neck bones pop in her haste to look at him.

"What?" She asked rudely, aware that the other inhabitants of the table had stopped talking amongst themselves to listen to their conversation.

"You have not touched your cutlery, or taken any food," He said, and for the lords sake, was that _concern_ she saw in his eyes? Could this nightmare get any worse? Now she was supposed to feel _sorry_ for the idiot that got her kidnapped? "Are you feeling unwell? You have not eaten for too long, perhaps you should have some bread?"

Emily groaned and dutifully ignored Elrohir's sharp eyes, "If you mean sick in the head then yes, I am." She replied sighing heavily.

Legolas looked perplexed, "My lady I'm not sure I understand what you mean…"

"I mean, your royal pain, that I'm stuck on a wooden medieval ship with people who think they're elves and mistook me for my twin sister." She explained, her voice bored and a little defeated. She may as well give in, she was sure her number was almost up, there's only so much time a human can go without food or water and her minutes were ticking by.

"…We do not think we are elves." The other blonde one said, what was his name again? Emily racked her brains, he was the one with the rich hazel eyes…Li-…Lin…-Lindir! That was it. "We are elves and we know it."

Emily burst out laughing, "Yo-You are-are insane." She choked out, clutching her sides where it hurt to laugh so hard. "Elves? Dude, you already kidnapped me, you can quit the bullshit."

"I assure you my lady we are not 'bullshitting' you." Lindir replied, his weird accent making the words sound unfamiliar to him.

Emily looked at him, or rather she glared as she let lose a string of curses that left Arwen blushing, "Lady Emily that isn't the type of language you use at the dinner table..." Erestor pointed out quietly, at least she thought it was Erestor, he looked like an Erestor. If black hair and pale skin is what Erestor's look like.

Emily was about to reply but thought better of it, and instead crossed her arms against her chest and shut her mouth, choosing not to glare at Lindir but to revert her horrid stare to her empty plate. The table was silent once more and the only noise was the occasional scrape of a knife or fork against a plate. Deciding that speaking was just a waste of her time, Emily wasted the next ten minutes trying to memorise the patterns on her plate and wondering on all the ways the cleaning staff could have got it so shiny.

Someone cleared their throat, but seeing as she was only half way through on the trials and tribulations of how to get chocolate out of a white skirt she didn't bother acknowledge whoever it had come from, it was only after her name was called that she looked up and paid at least a little bit of attention. "Emily," Someone said, and looking up Emily saw it was that robe-y guy, Gandalf was his name, Gandalf the White, "Emily are you not hungry? It's come to my attention that you haven't been eating." He said and Emily's eyes widened a fraction, but she didn't reply.

Gandalf raised a white unkempt eyebrow, "I wonder if you've seen the tubes they used to use to force feed women who went on hunger strike in British prisons. I also wonder if you've heard the stories of how it caused internal damage, and how-"

"Are you threatening me?" She interrupted, her eyes narrowed.

Gandalf gave a half smile, "No, merely asking a question. Stating a point. That you should eat." He said, and although he denied the threat Emily read it plainly in his eyes. Her nostrils flared and she reigned in whatever insults she had for him. She heard a slap and looked down to her plate and saw some slices of chicken drizzled in gravy and something she couldn't identify the name of. Giving one last glare to Gandalf she picked up her fork – at least she thought it was a fork- and stabbed at a slice of chicken, shoved it in her mouth and chewed.

When she was finished she turned back to the old man, "Are you happy now?" She near enough spat out.

"Quite." Was all he replied and Emily had to again, reign in the amount of insults she could hurt at him, folding her arms and slumping back into her chair.

Holy crap, she thought, that chicken was good, if its poisoned then I want whatever poison they used because that was the best thing I've ever had in my life. She could almost feel, the smiles that erupted around the table as most of them went back to chatter in a language Emily didn't even try to understand, she thought she recognised it, it was that Sinrinin thing Elladan and Elrohir had always been talking in. Hah, she thought, it's probably Elvish. More like gibberish, she countered with a snort, earning her a questioning glance from Glorfindel who had been in conversation with Erestor.

Minutes went past and Emily snuck a chicken slice into her mouth occasionally when she thought no one was looking, of course, everyone was, but she never knew. When she finished her last slice she noticed someone watching her and blushed a beetroot red colour, which, with her pale pallor, wasn't hard to miss.

"So Lady Emily," He began and Emily panicked for a second as she couldn't remember his name. God, she though annoyed, why can't they have normal names, like Steve…Or Bob. "Elladan tells me you were very brave." He said grinning and Emily grinned back, remembering his name was Aragorn and not her first thought with was 'Kidnaper Guy With The Weird Name'.

"Er…He did?" She asked, confused.

Aragorn nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, he said you saved his life," By now the rest of the table had stopped talking and were taping in to their conversation, busy bodies, Emily thought. "He said you were about to run away but saved his sorry ass instead." That got a shout out of Elladan who very nearly threw a piece of lettuce at Aragorn as Emily tied to figure out what he was talking about.

"'Saved his ass'?" She asked confusedly, "I don't think I did…" She said, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be pissed with him and his merry band of kidnappers.

Legolas decided it was his time to shine and he smiled kindly at Emily before speaking, "No need to be modest, Lady Emily, killing a Gremhant is no small thing and- Emily? Are you alright?" Her asked slihtly panciked, for Emily had gone deathly white and her hands were shaking slightly.

All she remembered was a sword, a pendant and a horrible, _horrible_, smell and then it was all over and then…Nothing. Just fuzzy images and god she _killed_ it? She thought she may have been able to shove it back down in her memory but she killed it? She? Emily? Pacifist of St Vincent's Preparatory High actually killed something? Other than weeds? She felt sick, and not, headache sick, but 'holy crap I'm going to throw up on all of you' sick. In another level of being she was aware of someone's hand on her forehead, of someone calling her name, of another someone telling Legolas and Aragorn off, but the words were lost on her, their meanings evoking no emotion.

And then all she saw was Glorfindel. And really, she's never noticed how truly green his eyes were, or how the sides of his mouth would pull tight whenever he was worried. And that was probably because she was always insulting him, but he completely deserved it. And then-And then he was singing, and she was _sure_ she had heard that song before. Even though she didn't know the words, or really understand the language, it was Glorfindel and all that really mattered was that for better or for worse she was stuck on this goddamned ship until she either died or got to this 'Valinor' place she had heard them talking about. The edges of her vision seemed to blur though, the individual lights in the room going out one by one and she figured it out a second too late that she was about to pass out.

_Man_, she thought tiredly, I really should have eaten some more of those chicken slices.

* * *

Heyyy so, this took AGES. And I'm so sorry, I got writers block halfway through and it was literally down to like, a line a day which was horrible. I'm not too happy about how it ended, I'm kind of annoyed that she seems to faint quite a bit. Seriously though, she faints like a Mary-sue aha But at least its nice and long to make up for my faux pas aha I was going to submit it at like four thousand words but I felt like I was letting you guys down, because all my chapters have a strict five thousand word above boundary aha By the way, no, she won't fall in love with Glorfindel right away, don't worry, I'm not too good with romantics so you won't have to worry about that for a little while longer aha

I hope you liked it, even though it took so long and seriously, I feel so bad about it, but hopefully the next chapter will be much funnier and Emily will stop being such a bitch aha I hope this seems life like? I'm not too sure, but I assume when people remember they killed something they tend to pass out from shock so hopefully Emily isn't being _to_o annoying.

So please read and review, I need your help with this one, I can't do it alone (: Any criticisms? Anything I could do better? Anything you want to add? Would like to see? I want to hear it all (:

So take care, and until next update keep being amazing !

xxx Kira !


	9. Chapter 8

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

_Chapter 8: Compromise and Co-operation._

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer: **The world and the characters mentioned mainly belong to Tolkien, it is his work and I'm not looking to make a profit on it. This is purely an adaptation for entertainment purposes and I meant no harm. Thank you for reading and once again the world and most of the characters do not belong to me, except for Elias family and a few elves I've not so greatly thought up.

**A/N**: Time for another update Friday! So you know, I'm thinking I may update this once a month or so, its better that way, because once a week will seriously kill me and if I did once a week, the chapters wouldn't be so long and detailed and I know you guys absolutely love my descriptions (; Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I took into consideration what everyone wanted to see- I was thinking along those lines anyways- so lets see where it takes us huh? I mean, I went with what you said, but I didn't want her to sound so mary-sueish, so instead of her doing it to herself, it'll be an accident brought on by a panic attack, and imperfection I've been dying to use on her aha (if you didn't get a word of what I said, don't worry, just read on and enjoy) So, as always, if you're new, welcome aboard the ship to Valinor, and if you are a returning passenger, try the mint tea, I heard its _divine_ (;

* * *

_Emily was asleep. She didn't know how she knew. She just was. She also wasn't currently asleep on a bed, but instead well, she was sitting up. Well, she wasn't sitting up, because whoever she was- whoever's body she seemed to be inhabiting, it wasn't hers. Whoever it was, was a girl, with blonde hair and that was about all she knew- well not really. She had a niggling sense that she knew exactly who this girl was and where she was, she just couldn't grasp it. She also knew, a minute later, that she had no control over this body she seemed to be in, she couldn't say anything even if she tried. Talk about 'out of body experience', she thought with a huff._

"_Dad, where the hell are we going?" She asked, or rather the body of the girl she was inhabiting asked. Currently Emily/the girl was sitting on a hard passenger seat of an old jeep, and oddly enough, Emily could feel the dents in the un-cushioned seat even as if she was really there- as though the girl was really her. The car itself was speeding across a plain of seemingly non-existence as it ploughed through the earth of the lower regions of a mountain that, if the girl looked out her window could see quite clearly looming before her. But she wasn't staring at the window; she was looking at the man beside her, which in turn meant that Emily was forced to look at him too. _

_He was handsome from what she could tell, his blonde hair wind swept as his window was wide open, his eyes were shielded by black-out sunglasses and Emily had a hard time trying to figure out whether or not he could see where he was going. He grinned suddenly, his pearly whites standing out against his sun-kissed skin- and Emily could have sworn she knew exactly who he was._

"_You'll see baby girl," He said taking a hand off of his steering wheel to ruffle the girls hair affectionately, "You'll see."_

Emily awoke with a silent start, her heart pounding so loudly it was all she could hear. What the hell was that? Some weird dream? But it couldn't have been, it felt as though Emily was the girl, and the guy? Well he looked a god awful spitting image of her father, and the girl sounded an awful lot like Sarah.

Emily blinked a few times, not daring to try and move a muscle just in case she wasn't in her own body again. The feeling of locked-in syndrome wasn't something she wanted to try again. It was as she wondered what the hell had happened to her that she realised she wasn't alone.

"We have to tell her," Someone whispered quietly and a gasp followed their words from another someone.

"You heard what Gandalf said!" They admonished, and Emily was certain that this someone was a woman and the other a man, "You promised!" She said in panicked tones.

She heard a sigh and she assumed it was the man, "I know, I know..." He trailed off and it was some time before he spoke again, "Well, we may as well tell her," He said and Emily couldn't mistake the annoyed edge his voice had taken, "Seeing as she's awake and has been eavesdropping."

Emily blushed crimson, she guessed the jig was up, and hesitantly she tried to open her eyes and almost jumped for joy when they did what she had asked, now, she thought slowly, sit up. And that's what she did, she sat up, only to fall back down again back against the soft bed covers when she felt her head spin with head rush, her eyes clenched shut. "Well maybe," She said groggily, holding her head, "If you talked just a little bit quieter, I wouldn't have woken up in the first place." And I'd have been able to stay with Sarah and dad a little longer, she thought. But that was ridiculous wasn't it? It wasn't them. It was just a sequence her mind had thought up, using images from her life and films she may have seen to make up a near impossible dream to taunt her with.

Opening her eyes she saw two worried faces staring down at her and she stifled a scream at how close they were. In reality, they weren't even faces, just massive eyes and a bit of nose. "What," She hissed, "Are you doing?"

The two pairs of eyes blinked simultaneously, and then blinked again before moving backwards and out of Emily's personal space. With a start she realised the two pairs of eyes belonged to none other than Elrohir the self proclaimed jester and Arwen the bloody model. Perfect, she sighed, just amazingly perfect. Not the best of people to see when you've just woken up, Emily's faint induced slumber did nothing to soften her harsh mood, and if it wasn't for the fact that she'd seen Elrohir fight and was afraid of damaging a perfect face like Arwen's, she would have slapped them both.

She sat up again, slower this time and waited for her eyes to adjust to their faces before she looked around at the room.

Oh dear. Oh dearly, dear- _dear_. This wasn't her room.

The white down covers that she was so ungracefully spread out on weren't hers, but seemed to be embroidered with a golden flower here and there, and then room? It was larger than her old one, and certainly wasn't in such a mess as hers was. More furnished that was for sure. And- what in the world was that? Were those _leggings_ hanging up in the corner? Emily frowned, I thought those went out of style in the 40's, she thought. And by 40's, she meant the 2040's if her history of fashion class was to be correct.

"Who's room is this?" She asked horrified, her eyes widening.

Arwen fidgeted, "Glorfindel's." She said with an apologetic smile, "You fainted and your room was quite a mess, so he just brought you here instead…"

"Oh. Right." Emily said in a dazed sort of way, "Lovely." She really was running out of expressions and reactions. After the whole, you're being kidnapped and by the way we're elves thing, nothing really seemed to surprise her- not less the fact that four days into her little boat journey and she was already in another man's bed. Way to Sarah-ify things Emily, she chided herself. It wasn't that Sarah was bad…No, it was just that Sarah never seemed to be able to stay single for long, and she never seemed to be able to restrain herself from cheating given the chance. Emily on the other hand, a polar opposite, was almost always single and almost never woke up in another guys bed. Scratch that, make it that she straight up _never_ woke up in another man's bed.

All was silent, as Emily regarded the awkwardly standing Arwen and Elrohir. She really didn't have anything against them, she realised, if it wasn't for their pointy ears and the whole we're taking you to Valinor thing, she'd probably actually really like them. Then again, she couldn't promise with Arwen, Emily did have a low tolerance for perfect girls. Or maybe that was just jealousy. Either way, she wasn't promising.

The silence dragged on and Emily was feeling a little awkward herself, so instead of doing the whole 'I'm a damsel in distress please help me' thing, she decided to be her most blunt, which really wasn't so blunt.

"So um," She fumbled for the right words, instantly attracting the two relieved 'elves' attention, "Why exactly am I here?" She asked quietly, "And no crap." She said, remembering the words they had spoken earlier, "I don't care what you promised Gandalf, I want the truth…You owe me that much." She said, adding on a little bit of damsel in distress at the end. So sue her. She was going to milk it for all it was worth.

Elrohir sighed and ran a distracted hand through his hair, sending a small nod to Arwen which Emily missed. He moved forward slowly, both of his hand palm up in a sign of peace which Emily inclined her head to, showing she understood. He gave another sigh and sat on the bed, causing Emily to fold her legs Indian style as she looked at him. It would be minutes after before she realised that Arwen had left quietly, slipping through the door, trusting Elrohir not to reveal anything too major.

Emily had an expectant as expression on as she waited for Elrohir to tell her why all of this had happened. "Your father," He began, "Did he ever tell you where he was from? Anything about family? His parents?"

Emily was silent for a moment as she racked her brains, thinking backwards to recall if her father had ever answered any of those questions, "He said he was born in Connecticut, that he had no family, and no parents." She said confusedly, "But what's that got to do with where we're going?"

Elrohir sighed, "Valinor," He said, "As mentioned before we are going to Valinor."

"Ah. Right. See, that would make sense," Emily began with a raise of her eyebrows, "If Valinor was actually a real place."

Elrohir gave a half smile, and instead of feeling reassured Emily felt a little bit freaked out. Had Elrohir always been that- that- _perfect_? Was that the word for his angled bones and perfect symmetry? Was it natural? Not to mention Emily could see the blasted tip of his pointed ear. Elf. The word made her want to shiver. This kind of stuff, this sci-fi stuff? She'd only ever read about it, having elves thrust into your face wasn't as nice as it sounded, even if all the elves were as stupidly hot as Elrohir was. But it wasn't even him being 'hot' it was, and Emily was sure to cringe after admitting this, he was beautiful. Not, hot, or phitt, or any over degrading thing…He was a picture of beauty and honestly, it hurt Emily to look at him sometimes, it really did. Ethereal. That's what he was. _Ethereal being_.

"Valinor is a real place, Emily, " He said conversationally, "Its just not any human maps, but we'll get to that topic later." He paused, looked at Emily then looked back down to study the pattern on the bed sheet, "Your father was born in Valinor. He had a father, though he turned away from him long ago, there are no accounts of a mother." Elrohir was cutting and pasting information into a believable lie, and by Eru it had to be _believable_. "He fled Valinor after an…_argument_." The biggest understatement of this long year, he thought sourly.

"Wait, wait, wait," Emily interrupted with a raised hand, "You're saying my dad was born on some random island, fled this random island, came to live in new York and is now god knows where with my sister?" She asked with wide eyes.

Elrohir glared at her, "If you'd let me finish he story, I'd explain it a bit better," Emily rolled her eyes and gestured for him to continue with a fake smile, "When your father fled he…angered a lot of people-"

"Were these people elves?" Emily asked with a raised eyebrow, "Because I am now assuming I'm on a ship full of elves in some bad nightmare."

"What did I say about interruptions?" Elrohir snapped with a roll of his eyes, "Yes. Your father angered the elves and men alike. Which is why we wanted to take Sarah. She's closest to your father and we had reason to believe an assassination was being planned. And that your father was plotting something."

Emily was quiet once more, her brow furrowed as she digested the information, closest to her father? Emily always thought there was something missing in her relationship with her father, she just wasn't sure if the outside world could see it too. Danger? Assassination? Plotting? These were all words from war movies and adventure books. Not the happenings of everyday life, especially not _her_ everyday life. Her Richard? Her father? Was born in this mythical place where Elves apparently lived and pranced about with their perfect feet? It wasn't adding up. It didn't make sense. It was ridiculous. And It was most likely the only explanation she was going to get. And honestly, it was probably the uttermost truth.

In all seriousness, what did she really know about her father? Other than he worked for the government and was supposedly from Connecticut? Nothing. Absolutely nada. He never mentioned any siblings, or parents or any childhood memories…It always seemed like to Emily that his life had started when her and her sister were born. Sarah always told her to stop asking questions, but there was always just _something_… Her father had lied. Her sister had lied. Who else was lying? Was this even real? Was she really even in this boat?

Of course she was, and she was about to be sick thanks to all its rocking. Or maybe the sick was from the fact that she had just been told that most of her life was a lie. Or, a product of her father who hid the truth. Obviously, that information can screw a girl up. Thinking about it, she was handling it pretty well, she hadn't even burst into tears yet, which was an improvement from her previous antics.

"Emily?" Elrohir asked trying to eradicate the smile from his voice. From the look of her crumpled face she had believed the lie. Did he feel bad about it? Of course he did. Would he tell her the truth? Of course not. His only hope was that when she found out that they had lied to her, she wouldn't hate them for _too_ long. "Would you like to go up on deck? You haven't been outside yet and it's cool up there. A nice sea breeze? You're looking a little…sick." He said worriedly, maybe his lie had worked a little _too_ well.

"I'm not sick," She snapped rudely, and then blanched when she realised her words, "Sorry, sorry, I'm just stressed." And apparently insane, apologising to your captives! What kind of woman are you? Her inner voice seemed to scream at her, and honestly, Emily had no more energy to scream back.

Elrohir smiled sympathetically at her, "Come, to the deck, we will let you see the ocean, it has been known to soothe."

* * *

And so, a half hour later, Emily Elias found herself on a ship deck, with various elves and a whole lot of sea-salt spray. Lovely, she thought, picture perfect, the only thing wrong with this picture is that I have no idea what's going on with these assassination plans and these ruddy elves.

Emily sighed, the sea was indeed calming, but it was also constantly moving and her body, unused to the rocking, was getting some heavy waves of sea-sickness. "So, saying you were an elf…" Emily began cautiously, not looking at Elrohir who had a faint smile on his lips.

He sighed and turned to face her, "Must you not believe me?" He asked rolling his eyes, "Surely being on a ship in the middle of nowhere would make you believe that I now have no reason to lie to you." He said, and, seeing Emily's blank look sighed once more, "Alright," He gave in, "Saying that I am an elf."

Emily smiled, "Yes, alright so you're an elf. What do you do? I mean…Do you help Santa? Run around in forests talking to trees? I mean because seriously, If you want me to believe that, it's a step too far." She informed him seriously, and Elrohir had to suppress the laugh that bubbled to his lips, humans. They never ceased to amaze him.

"No," He said quietly, suddenly serene, "We no longer talk to the trees."

Emily, sensing his shift in mood quietened for a moment, shifting her attention back to the water and it was some time before she spoke once more. "What do you mean 'no longer'?" She asked just as quietly as Elrohir had spoken, "Did you use to? Because that's totally okay with me if you did, I mean, it's kinda creepy, but ya know, if it wasn't for the whole kidnap thing I'd say you were pretty cool and if that means you like talking to trees then that's totally fine too." She blurted out in an attempt to make him feel better. But, like most things she tried, it was awkward and not well thought out, not to mention she was pretty sure she had insulted rather than soothed. Unknown to her, various shipmen/elves had slowed their movements and were quietly staring at the elf and the girl talking on the deck.

Elrohir's eyebrows were pushed together in confusion and he looked towards Emily's flushed cheeks, shaking his head as he smiled, "Well, as long as it's totally fine with you," He said, and did Emily detect a hint of mocking in his voice? Well, she hoped not, otherwise she hoped Elves could swim. And fast. "Yes, Emily the trees, yours and mine used to sing, talk and feel." He said wistfully and Emily could almost hear them singing, picture then dancing-no wait, that was just weird, trees didn't have feet…right? "They were old and soulful and if angered could be a dangerous threat," There was a smirk on his face now, and Emily was confused, he talked about the trees as though they had stopped singing and dancing millennia ago, but Elrohir was only twenty-two, right?

"And there were Onodrim- or the Ents in common tongue- as well, created by Eru and bestowed upon Arda by the Vala Yavanna, to guard her gardens of Arda, Ents and the Entwives, who the Ents are still searching for by the way." He said and Emily's puzzlement deepened, Ents? Ent wives? Were they a form of ant?

"Oh how Treebeard would make me laugh!" One elf said, and Emily near enough jumped out of her skin at the new arrival. Emily scooted backwards minutely, towards the railings and the sea below, turning to face the owner of the voice. It was a woman, well; it was an elf woman, if her pointed ears meant anything other than self mutilation. Her voice it seemed was high and low at the same time, tinged with a Russian accent and something else, Emily couldn't even fathom where she might have been from. Her hair was blonde, almost white in places and was twisted into particularly intricate plaits that Emily dreaded to wonder how long they took. She had a button nose and bright blue eyes. All in all she was a stunner. _Oh lovely_, Emily thought, _another reason to feel inferior_.

"Nostariel," Elrohir greeted the woman with a smile, "I remember your stories of old Treebeard," He laughed and Emily got a pang of something she hadn't felt in years: Isolation. Apart from that rugged man who was apparently Arwen's husband, she was the only human possibly on board this godforsaken ship. Suddenly breathing which moments before had been easy was hard as the air got stuck in her throat and in her panic she forgot to breathe in and out evenly.

"Oh the songs the trees would sing with us!" Another voice called out, and Emily took another panicked step backward, bigger this time as she realised a beautiful male elf with warm brown eyes had joined their little merry circle. "And the Entwives!" Someone else called out with a light laugh at the end. Emily scooted backwards still, her breathing hitched, she knew what was happening, she was having a panic attack, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what her therapist used to tell her to do. All she could think of were singing trees and dancing elves and really, was it just too much to ask for a little bit of humanity? "The Entwives planted such lovely harvests," A woman with her hair dark hair in a elegant bun said, her pointed ears clearly on display for all to see, as Emily pushed herself away from these strangers, her back hitting the rigging ropes which screamed boundary.

Elrohir was laughing along with the other elves as every jostled for a tale to tell and space to tell it in, he turned back to Emily to see if she saw what him and the other elves saw, only too see her clawing at her throat as she leaned against the ropes of the ship which indicated the sea below. "Emily?" He asked hesitantly, watching her intently, she didn't seem to be able to breathe properly, her face was pale and her hair was plastered on her face in places, Elrohir was confused because to him, she looked terrified, although what was so terrifying about trees he had no idea. "Are you feeling alright?" By this time she had gained the attention of the five or six other elves and they all had varying shades of concern written on their faces. Nostariel, the regal lady who had spoken first took a step forward a warm smile on her lips, "You must be the Elias girl, well met." She said hesitantly, halting in her footsteps as she saw Emily push back on the rope railings, "Are you okay?" She asked quietly.

No. Emily was not okay, her throat was tight, she couldn't breathe and why the _hell_ were their so many people looking at her? She pushed herself backwards, only to feel the rope cutting into her back. All she wanted was to get away, but the stupid rope was stopping her, well the rope and the hundreds of miles of sea below it. Elrohir's eyes widened as he saw the panic in her eyes, "Stop." He said, and he wasn't sure whether he said it to Emily or the other elves around him, "Emily please come forward," He said in a neutral tone of voice, sliding forward minutely, "You're too close to the edge."

Emily shook her head with vigour, no way was she going anywhere near the horde of beautiful elves before her. She couldn't even look at them, she just wanted to escape, and Jesus Christ she couldn't _breathe_. Elrohir stepped forward and in a split second Emily's flight system kicked in and she stepped back, but she must have pushed too hard because one moment her feet were on the deck and the next she had tumbled over the railings, getting her wish for escape. If she wasn't falling to her death she may have laughed at herself 'Be careful what you wish for', her fourth grade English teacher had drilled into her head. Its funny what you think of in those last moments, senseless blabber and nothing of importance, no tears for loved ones, no heartfelt goodbyes, she just old fashioned self chiding. It was in the middle of this self chiding that her back hit icy waves and she was immediately sucked under.

Now, cutting the damsel in distress act as Emily liked to, being plunged into Icy water wasn't so bad, she mustered up. When she used to do gymnastics they regularly took ice baths to help their muscles, this was no different she kept telling herself, plus she thought as her body defied waters centre of gravity and kept tumbling down, you're a strong swimmer, you'll be fine, wait till your body to level out, then kick to the surface, you've done it plenty of times, don't freak out, , if you freak out, you die, she thought, repeating her fathers warning words from years previous.

But her body never levelled out. She must have caught a under current because suddenly she was being whipped to the right and try and she might kick out of it, she was exhausted. From days of not eating, to her travels in the woods. She was tired of it all, what good is it to stay? She was tired, and so very _very_ cold. What was the point? She thought defeated, sighing out the last of her air. The last thing she remembered was an old song she used to sing, she never knew where it came from, or how she knew the words, or even what language it was in, but she knew it was about a woman- an immortal woman who fell in love with a human man and gave up her immortality to be with him. She opened her eyes and peered into the dark sea, only to see something impossible.

A man. A man with green scales who seemed to be at ease with the water. He moved not with the waves she saw, and was not trapped by the rip curl. She stared at him as he stared at her, a sad smile upon his lips as he extended a hand to her, '_your escape is not here, child_' a whisper in her head was heard as she tried to stretch her arm to grab his hand. Because suddenly she didn't want to die, she wasn't ready, she needed to find her mother and Sarah and her dad and find out what he was plotting, and who else to do so but her? She couldn't abandon them and how _dare_ she even think she could, she thought as a new determination flew into her system as she began to kick back against the tide, and was it her or was that strange man grinning, in an odd way Emily could almost believe he was proud of her.

But as her lungs willing with water, her hand stopped obeying what she wanted, and forced her legs to still and her eyes to close. '_sleep_,' the watery voice whispered again, '_help is coming daughter of shroud…help is coming young one_,' the voice finished and she could have sworn she felt a hand touch her cheek. Sleep. It sounded almost impossible but then she _did_ want to sleep. And it didn't sound so impossible anymore and she was also defying warn against the colds of what she was sure was the Atlantic ocean as she made a choice. Sleep. Sleep and not die as she unexpectedly remembered the names of the woman and the man in her song.

Beren and Luthien. If she was above water she may have chuckled, what odd names for such a pretty song.

* * *

Pandemonium. That was the only word to describe what Legolas had walked into upon being requested on the deck. An elf whose name Legolas could not remember was crying lightly on another elf's shoulder. Men and women were staring into space. Others were shouting, looking out at the water with intent faces.

"It's been eight minutes, nine if you count the minute of shock it took Lord Elrohir to jump in after her," A young peredhel told Legolas, "She surely won't be alive."

Legolas blanched. What was he talking about? The timid servant girl who had all but dragged him onto the deck had refused to say anything more than 'Lady Emily' 'Lord Elrohir' ''Sea' 'Fell' 'Jumped', and Legolas had been trying to piece it all together, without much success. "What do you mean?" Legolas asked hurriedly, noting the absence of Elrohir and Emily and fearing the worse, "What happened here?" came a deep voice behind him, and Legolas relaxed slightly seeing Glorfindel's tall frame, flanked by Lindir and Aragorn on either side.

The young peredhel's eyes widened slightly at all the nobility practically breathing down his neck as he hurried to answer, "Lady Emily asked the master Elrohir questions about the trees, and, other Elves joined in to tell her the stories of old," He said quickly, "But, the lady seemed to go deathly pale," He said his brows puckering in his own confusion, "She kept stepping backwards, towards the edge and would have fallen sooner had the rope not been In place." He stopped to take a breath, "She was having trouble breathing as well, she kept clutching her throat, and Lady Nostariel stepped forward to ask what was wrong and she just kept shaking her head, mumbling nonsense words," He said quietly, "Lord Elrohir stepped forward almost unnoticeably, but she still picked up the movement, she seemed to have an attack of some sort and pushed herself back so fast that she fell." He finished in a rush, fearing the onslaught of Eldar anger. Thankful to him he was spared the ordeal by a sluggish thwack on the deck. Causing him to snap round.

Legolas listened to the explanation that could have only of taken about thirty seconds as the boy squeezed the words out against the will of his mouth. He had listened with a deepening dread as his fears had been confirmed but now looked on in relief as a drenched Elrohir carrying a limp Emily was helped up on deck. All four of them rushed forward, Legolas getting their first, his throat closing up in despair as he took in the blue lips and unmoving chest of the important twin. He dropped down beside a tired Elrohir whose hair was limp and straggled against his head as he worked on the girl, laying a head to her chest to check for any signs of a beating heart.

Legolas placed to hands over her heart, "You breathe, I'll push." He said, and, without waiting for a reply started compressions. "Onetwothreefourfive." He said quickly, moving as Elrohir clutched her limp head and turned it towards his own, breathing into her. They waited. Two seconds. Nothing. Legolas started again. And so they went on for three agonizing minutes.

"Legolas you must stop, she is surely gone…" Someone murmured quietly, although Legolas paid no attention and neither did Lindir who had taken over from an exhausted Elrohir. "Onetwothreefour-" A splutter from Emily, water bubbling from her mouth as she tried to expel the water she had inhaled into her lungs. Lindir, quickly thinking, turned her on her side, slapping her back to help her as she retched up the burning salt water. A mild cheer went up from the worried crowd, Nostariel's tears finally stopped.

Emily had stopped coughing, and Lindir resorted to rubbing her back in soothing motions while Legolas whispered calming words to her as she began to thrash slightly, becoming still once more as Lindir settled her on her back, the reassuring wheeze as she breathed a relief to everyone. She opened her mouth and seemed to try and talk, although nothing came out other than some painfully scratchy words.

Someone passed water forward and Lindir reached for it, placing against her lips, dribbling it into her mouth, she gulped greedily, chocking on the water forcing Lindir to turn her on her side once more and slap her on the back until she subsided and was laid down once again. This time when she opened her mouth her words were so quiet she had to cough several times to stop anyone having to lean into her personal space to hear her. "Didn't mean to fall." She rasped, "Too many elves. Only one human, panic attack. Man in the sea. Beren and Luthien…" She trailed off sleepily, her short phrases meaning different things to every person, as elves started to touch their hands to their hearts and direct the hand to her in a good will farewell. Glorfindel and Aragorn went to pick Elrohir up, and carry him down to his quarters while Legolas picked Emily up, Lindir keeping a hand on her back as she seemed to get agitated when he tried to move it, all of them wondering how on earth she knew about Beren and Luthien and who the man in the sea was.

* * *

Legolas was sitting on one side of the bed, his head buried in an old book bound in a maroon sleeve, gold letterings adorning the front page. Lindir was sat on a chair on the other side of the huge bed, his hand in the grasp of the sleeping Emily. None of the two of them felt any particular ties to the girl, but as Gandalf said, she was important, so do what they may to keep her alive. This meant Legolas keeping watch and Lindir keeping his hand exactly where it was lest the girl start whipping about once more.

Not for the first time in the last weeks had Emily woken up to a splitting headache and a sluggish feeling, and she wondered what the twins had hit her on the head with this time round. She could discern that she was lying on a comfortable bed, she knew not what day or time it was, or whose bed she was in, only that her whole body was sore and the bed seemed to be acting as a second body. She was too tired to do anything other than pry open cracked and dry lips and rasp for water, thinking she was alone and unaware of the company she had attracted. Snapping the book shut at the croaky voice, Legolas grabbed a waiting glass of water and brought it to the girls' lips, dribbling drop after drop until she moved her head to the side, signalling she wanted no more.

Emily, feeling slightly better after the water, licked her dry lips and winced at the still healing cuts she could feel, she could also feel someone's hand in her own and she quickly released it, pulling her hand back towards her stomach suspiciously. "Why are you in my room?" She asked after a moment, happy to hear only a slight scratch in her voice.

"You passed out. We brought you here. You wouldn't let go of Lindir's hand." Legolas said drily, eyeing the girl with something akin to indifference.

Emily glared at him, "I'm sure you are mistaken. Now if you wouldn't mind-

Legolas cut her off, setting his book down on her bedside table calmly, "I don't think so, Lady Emily. You almost died, in fact you did die. Almost caused the death of a prince in waiting, I think you owe us an explanation." He said with a raised eyebrow, his voice holding no room for questioning.

"I owe you nothing." She replied nonchalantly, terribly aware that her body ached and that she was treading on fragile eggshells. _Very_ fragile.

Legolas' eyes flashed, "You will tell me how you know of Luthien and Beren, this second." He demanded, his hand clenching around the arm of the wooden backed chair he sat on. Lindir, sat quiet, watching the two beings grate against each other with such force he could almost see sparks.

Emily blinked, then smiled sweetly, "You know they say near death experiences bring people together." She said conversationally, "I guess this means we're friends then?"

"Do not play games." Legolas said his voice steely, "I have thousands of years on you, child, which also means thousands of years' worth of temper training. But faced with an insolent child…" He trailed off sweetly. Yeah, Emily thought, as sweet as a newly bought saw blade looks.

Choosing to go with the offence Emily dodged his threat with an insult, "Thousands of years? Good God you're old." She said, shifting uncomfortably in her bed which was all of a sudden too hot.

"I tire of this you little-" Lindir cleared his throat to interrupt Legolas' outraged words.

"Maybe it would be best for you to go check on Elrohir?" Lindir asked quietly, looking at Legolas with a calm expression, "Maybe he would like some water too?"

Legolas' grip on the arms of the chair loosened, his eyes dimmed and his expression tightened, "Of course, I'm sure that's him I can hear ranting and raving about pecan pie." He said in clipped tones, nodding once to Lindir as farewell and ignoring Emily all together as he got up, smoothed his tunic and walked calmly to the door, leaving without looking back once. As the door clicked shut Emily exhaled a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding. Did Blondie really put her on edge so badly? She could hold her cool with the rest of them, but there was just something _up_ with him. Like he had a metal stick shoved up his ass for one.

It was silent for a moment and then Lindir shifted awkwardly, "You should not antagonise him so," He said quietly, looking at Emily with a guarded expression, "He only wished to know what happened."

Emily scoffed; pushing herself up painfully into a sitting position, looking around the surroundings she assumed was her new room. "Yeah?" She asked disbelievingly, "Well he's got a funny way of being innocent."

Lindir sighed, running a hand across his face in a weary manor. Emily looked at him, the young beautiful face, to those oddly coloured rich hazel eyes. He was in a green sort of dress thing this time round Emily noticed, and oddly enough it highlighted his rich hair. It took her a moment to realise she was staring, and she blushed profusely. Honestly, though could you blame her? The elves. Every single one of them. All depictions of Michael Angelo's David. All Greek God's. All perfect. And all stupidly superior to Emily in ever single way.

Lindir looked up and gave a small smile, "We could be friends," He said suddenly, referring back to her question dodging techniques, "But you know, they also say that being truthful brings people together. A little compromise and Co-operation. Would you like to try?"

Emily regarded him for a short while, he didn't seem like the typical kidnapper, and in fact he kind of seemed like Elrohir. Kinda…_Nice_. If it wasn't for that whole holding her against her will thing. And well, if she was going to survive this whole ordeal, she was sure she was going to need a few friends, acquaintances even. She didn't really mind, just someone or something to make her feel not quite so…_alone_. So she told the truth, she may as well try and be civil, this whole 'kick ass, talk later' attitude was starting to grate on even _her_ nerves. "I got scared." She said, and a flush of pink rose up her neck in embarrassment, "There were too many peop- elves. And they were all talking, and you know I've never done too well in social situations." She said conversationally, "And, I don't even know what happened, one minute I was having a panic attack, the next moment, bam, I'm over board."

Lindir was nodding his head, as though her story aligned itself with what he already knew, "Panic attack?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

Emily blanched, how did he not know what a panic attack was? "Erm…Its like, when a person gets extremely discomforted? Like, their anxiety spikes and they can't breathe…Go a little crazy?" She asked, hoping he would nod his head like he knew. He didn't.

Instead Lindir looked quite intrigued, "I've never come across such a thing in elves, perhaps it is mainly a human thing." He said quietly in a contemplative voice.

"Dude, where have you been for the past couple hundred years?" Emily blurted out without thinking, "Surely you've heard about panic attacks? I mean, they even developed these tablets that help with controlling them, I've got a few in my bag- actually, where _is_ my bag?" She asked, sidetracked from her original story.

Lindir smiled sadly, "I haven't set foot in Arda in over six thousand years." He said sadly, ignoring her question about her bag and her insult about his impaired knowledge.

"See, there you go again. You and Blondie always talking about thousands of years and this 'Arda' place. I get that you're a couple years older than me, but really, thousands? I can believe the rest, but let's not be stupid." She said with a roll of her eyes, watching in disbelief as Lindir expression did not change. He couldn't be telling the truth…Could he? Thousands of years? He couldn't be…Although he did look…not old but, weary. Tired even. His face was young, but Emily was taken aback to notice that his eyes were old. "Okay, can we save the immortality thing for another day? If we try now I think I may throw up." She confessed with a frown.

Lindir chuckled lightly, and Emily almost laughed with him, so was his chuckle infectious. "Yes, of course," He said, "Why don't you continue with your story?" He asked with an incline of his head, the smile never leaving his face. Yeah. Emily liked him. He seemed like 'friend' material…If an elf could be a friend that is.

"I don't remember much after falling in…Only being caught by an under current." She said, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant way, avoiding eye contact with the elf in front of her.

Lindir regarded her for a moment and then nodded, "But when we revived you…You said something about a man, a man in the sea." He prompted gently, his gaze intense, "Who was the man?"

Emily shrugged again, "It must have been Elrohir?" She said, meaning for it to come out as a statement and instead twisted her mouth to make it sound like a question. She looked up at Lindir sheepishly, and watched him raise a disbelieving eyebrow. She sighed, "Okay, so I may have seen this guy…Kinda old looking? Green scales, silver hair, didn't seem to need to swim?" She listed off, as if asking Lindir if he knew the man in the sea, "He said something, like help was coming, or something like that…I don't really remember much, after the shock of seeing this guy I didn't really listen." She confessed ashamedly. She felt like she should have listened more, for some odd reason she didn't _want_ to disappoint Lindir. Oddly enough.

His expression didn't change, and he didn't talk for so long that Emily had to resort to counting the minutes in her head before she heard a peep out of him, and what he said caught her severely off guard as it had nothing to do with what they had been talking about. "Are you hungry?" He asked suddenly, "Anneth is preparing a bath for you, and then we could eat?" And Emily, struck dumb by the sudden swing in conversation just nodded numbly to his request, to which Lindir smiled and nodded, making a swift exit and leaving Emily to her muddled thoughts.

* * *

A bath was drawn, and Emily was most certainly ready for it. Her body ached from trying to swim against the current, not to mention she was mentally and physically tired after her ordeal. Which, really was her fault. However, she didn't spend that long in the bath, as there were other matters at hand to deal with. Specifically her arms. And the amount of dirt she had to scrub off. She managed to find a rock near the fireplace in her new room and used that to scrub each hand until red and raw. Until all visible traces of dirt were removed from her skin. She hadn't resorted to her rock technique in just under three years. Her therapist said that her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder kicked in when she felt intimidated, Emily, in turn told him he was bullshitting as she never felt intimidated. Just she always felt dirty. Well, her hands, her hands were _always_ dirty. And obviously, God had wanted her hands to be clean otherwise he wouldn't have given her the idea. Right? Of course its not right, but for someone with the disorder it was complete and utter normalcy.

The girl, the elf who had ran her bath, Anneth, Emily decided, was a bit of a first grade bitch. To put it lightly. All it was all 'disdainful loo to the right' and 'glare to the left'. Honestly, all Emily asked for was her bag with her special bath salts that she had packed to Dana's house and it was like World War IIII had ignited. Another thing, Anneth refused to speak English. Even thought Emily knew she could, the moody elf decided to speak in those lulling tones, so beautiful was the language that it almost put Emily to sleep while she was being bitched at in a foreign tongue. So, guessing by her experiences, you can imagine Emily's horror when she walked back into her room from her en suite bathroom, clad in naught but a towel, to find her regular clothes replaced by a blue dress. And not just any dress.

A medieval, flowing, cut off at the wrists with a train in tact medieval dress. Adorned with such intricate designs Emily didn't even want to touch it fear she snag a broken nail on the stitching and ruin it all. So she did what any other seventeen year old would do. She ran around on the spot shaking her hands in an awkward manor until someone knocked on the door. It just so happened that that someone was the one and only demolition crew number one, Mr. Glorfindel. Or, just Glorfindel as he had tried to drill into her head on one of the many car journeys they forced her to endure. "Emily?" He called through the door, "Are you ready to go to breakfast?" He asked.

Oh come on, Emily thought exasperatedly, seriously? You give me a puffy dress and then you give me Glorfindel? Of all people! She felt like screaming. She really did. Her deck of cards really didn't seem to be adding up lately. "Er…Yeah almost…Just, Glorfindel….?" She called out hesitantly, eyeing the dress in such confusion she could almost _feel_ her eyes crossing. "What do I do with the puffy dress?"

Silence awaited her question, or were those actual _chuckles_ she could here? "Emily, _tithen pen_ you must put the dress _on_." Came another voice, Lindir's voice, she realised after a moment. She didn't even hear him come up to the door.

Face bright red and still walking slowly around in a circle wringing 0ut her hands she called out, "Could you- Well maybe could you-" Oh she was going to hate this, hatehate_hate_ it. This was a last resort, she'd never actual say this. Never. "Could you get Anneth? I don't…Well its not really a dress but a…duvet cover." She said quietly horrified, inching away from the dress.

"Emily Anneth is busy; you'll have to put it on yourself." Glorfindel replied, and was that a snigger she heard afterwards? Oh she was so going to bludgeon him.

"No." She shouted back resolutely, "Get me Anneth." She paused, "_Now_." She decided to add for good affect.

There was a sigh then, "Alright."

Emily nodded to herself, wringing her hands together and padding over to the chair Legolas had sat in earlier. Looking around the room she realised that her new given room was larger, with a chest of draws as well as a trunk at the foot of her bed. The window on her wall was larger, letting in more light through the parted curtains. The fireplace looked grander, the table and chairs a lot sturdier and the bed looked a lot more tempting. All in all, a fine upgrade, she assessed. Now if only that dress would spontaneously combust, she thought wistfully. She looked to her left and noticed the book that Legolas had left behind, looking around her room like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar; she picked up the light book with aching hands- stroking the gold and green cover before opening the pages carefully. To Emily it looked like a very frail, very well read story book. It had a picture page, then a story page with letters and words of what she assumed to the beautiful language the elves seem to speak. She was so engrossed that she didn't realise someone knocking on her door until they called out her name tentatively.

"Lady Emily?" Came the thick southern drawl, "Lady Emily you required assistance?"

Emily frowned, "Erm… yes…" She said slowly.

"Well, I hear a little darlin' needs some help with a complicated dress." Came the reply, the accent so thick it turned to music all by itself. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Er, no," Emily said with a shrug, "Come on in." She said, scooting to the far wall when the door clicked open, just in case Lindir and Glorfindel were still standing by the door. The woman who walked through the door seemed to knock the breath out of Emily, literally. With flawless skin the colour of hot chocolate and wide golden eyes, she was a picture of beauty, and that was saying something next to the ridiculous beauty, Lady Arwen. The girl, whom the southern drawl belonged to Emily assumed, had hair down to her hips, and in the light had a reddish tint. The only thing wrong with the picture was the plain green dress she wore, the same colour as Anneth's. It did nothing to highlight the feminine beauty Emily was sure was there. But oddly enough, Emily didn't feel jealous when she looked at the girl, she felt…familiarity. Like she knew her from someone, and before she could stop herself, she felt her head cocking to the side and her mouth sliding open in concentration.

"Honey, you don't want to catch any flies do you?" The woman asked kindly, with a small tinkling laugh that sounded majestic and gravelly all at the same time.

Emily, catching herself, blushed and tightened the towel around her, not that she didn't have any underwear beneath it, but, for modesty's sake. "Um," Emily began uncertainly, "Where's Anneth?" She asked, as it was the only logical thing her mind seemed to be able to come up with at that moment in time.

"Anneth is making breakfast," She girl drawled with a sweet smile, "So they sent my instead, I trust you aint got no problems with that, honeybee?" Emily's eyebrows shot up in surprise, this girl, this elf, whatever she was…well, what was she? A 'Southern Belle'? _Probably_, Emily assessed, she spoke like one anyway.

Emily gaped for a moment, forgetting how to speak as she was again knocked back by waves of this girl's beauty, "No, erm…Of course I haven't got any problems with it…?" She trailed off, frantically thinking back as to whether or not she might have missed the girl's name.

"Shoni," She said with a grin, "They call me Shoni, and you Lady Emily should be getting dressed, and so let's get you into that pretty little number." She said in a hurry, and before Emily knew it, the towel had been ripped from her body and she was standing in her underwear while Shoni manoeuvred the dress as to slide nicely over Emily's head. The ordeal must have taken less that five minutes but to Emily it had seemed like hours, she couldn't even remember the last time she had worn a dress, lest one of this length and weight. Seriously though, the dress was heavy, and when Shoni swung her around to face a body length mirror Emily felt as though she may faint. The dress fit like a glove and Emily had a sneaky suspicion that Anneth had taken her measurements at some point in time. She couldn't see her feet, although Shoni leant down and slipped on some ballet pump type shoes that also fit like they had been made for her.

"Do you like it?" Shoni asked after a moment of silence, to which Emily just nodded. "Great, want me to do your hair?" She asked, and, not waiting for an answer, whipped out a delicate silver brush and started to thread it through Emily's blonde waves.

While she worked on her hair Emily took a moment to breathe, this whole situation was a little surreal, someone dressing her, and doing her hair and calling her 'Lady Emily', all the while this someone being the Image of beauty was a little much to process and before Emily could stop it, the words were tumbling from her mouth. "Shoni, like, don't get me wrong or anything, but you're really pretty, why aren't you wearing this dress and me the plain brown one?" She asked, gasping when she was finished and apologising before Shoni held up a hand to silence her, laughing in her weird way.

"Darlin', I was appointed working gal when I first got aboard the ship, this is what working gal's wear," She explained with a smile, her hands working expertly in Emily's hair, "I have a few dresses like yours, and I'll tell ya what, you can borrow a few, hm?" She said, dropping her hands from Emily's head and swinging her around to the mirror, "Do you like it?" She asked, and Emily could almost feel the girls' nervousness, which was complete nonsense if you asked her. Emily peered into the mirror and her breathing came a little quicker, her hair, normally flat and pulled into an unattractive bun had weird intricate plates laced into it, pulling her fringe back. Sudden curls had appeared at the tips of her hair and Emily marvelled in how glossy it looked. She cocked her head to the side, if she were to dwell on it, she may even say she looked moderately okay.

But instead she smiled and, on impulse threw her arms around Shoni to embrace her. "Thank you," She said quietly, and she meant it. Shoni, for all her southern charm had been the first person to treat her as…well, a person. And honestly, to Emily it felt almost _normal_ to have someone play with her, and call her darlin' and honeybee. Perhaps Shoni could be her friend, like Lindir and maybe Elrohir. Perhaps Emily _needed_ friends. And maybe, perhaps, these people needed her too.

Shoni hugged her back tightly and then released her, a satisfied grin upon her face, "Right then," She said, "Let's get you to breakfast, its time you meet the other members of this ship."

Emily nodded and followed Shoni out of her room, down various maze like hallways and then finally, to a semi-open oak door of which laughter and quiet murmuring could be heard through. Shoni, being the do first ask questions later person Emily had sussed her out to be, pushed her forward and through the door, taking her elbow and guiding her through the tables. Emily, herself, kept her head down, aware that the mild din in the room had quietened and she could feel many eyes on her.

Shoni stopped and Emily almost sighed in relief as she came into view of the table she had eaten at not a few days before. Elrohir was smiling at her, and that was the only way she could tell her apart from the hostile Elladan who hadn't even looked up at her arrival. Gandalf the whats-it was absent, and so was that Erestor dude. Legolas was sat next to Glorfindel, and they sat opposite the twins. Arwen, beautiful as ever sat next to Elladan and next to her sat that Aragorn dude who was staring at her with a smile on his face.

"Your grace's," Shoni said, curtseying while pushing Emily forward, "The dressed Lady Emily," She said with a smile to which Emily blushed.

Arwen grinned, "Thank you Shoni, you may leave now," To which Shoni curtseyed again and gave a grin to Emily before departing and heading through a separate pair of doors Emily hadn't even noticed but remembered to be the kitchen doors from her previous meal here. She looked at the doors for a time, silently praying that Shoni would come back and be normal with her once again, even though she knew she wouldn't.

"Will you not sit, Lady Emily?" Came Lindir's voice and Emily didn't even notice him sitting next to Glorfindel, he smiled at her startled expression and stood up, pulling out the chair beside him, indicating where she should sit. Emily, not knowing what else to do stepped forward and sat down, only to feel her chair being pushed forward by Lindir before he took his seat.

Looking down she began memorising the lines on her plate, conscious again of people's eyes on her. After a minute or so she gathered the courage to look up, only to see everyone smile at her in the eerie way that elves did, bar Aragorn who just smiled like a man. "Mornin'," She said quietly, reaching a hand forward and picking the juiciest red apple from a fruit basket she had ever seen. She heard an intake of breathe as Lindir's eyes zeroed in on her hands.

"What in Arda happened?" He asked, looking at her with his intense eyes. Emily, nervous all of a sudden pulled her hands back calmly with the apple and rested them on her lap, trying to think up an excuse.

"It was an itch." She said with a nonchalant smile, "I guess I shouldn't have scratched my hands so hard."

Elrohir, watching her talk narrowed his eyes in concern or suspicion Emily didn't know, thankfully she was saved having to explain herself further by the entrance of the loud Gandalf the…whats-it. "Well good morning one and all," He said joyfully, smiling at everyone and taking a bite out of something that looked an awful lot like a croissant, "How are we all today?" And just like that, the tension of the table dissipated, Elladan stopped being moody, Legolas stopped scowling, Glorfindel was suddenly animated and really, everything just seemed a little brighter with Gandalf around. _Note to self_, Emily thought amusedly_, get Gandalf to stay around for a while_.

"Mmm," Gandalf murmured, chewing on his pastry, "Eat, eat!" He called out as waitresses put pastries down on everyone's plates, "Be merry and eat!" He called out, casuing Lindir to laugh as Emily timidly joined in with him. Maybe Compromise and Co-operation wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

_**Tithen Pen**_: Young One

I must confess guys, that this really is just a filler chapter, and I suppose most of the chapters leading up the arrival in Valinor will seem like it, but don't worry, I don't really intend to spend much time on the ship with these guys ! And I know it may seem like I rush a lot, but there's so much I want to say that sometimes I've just got to.

Now, want I need from you guys are some **reviews**, because basically, this is the longest story I've ever written and I'm at loss as to how well I'm doing. I got a bloody excellent review from a reviewer on my last chapter and it helped quite a bit, I incorporated some of what she said and hopefully she'll review again. I'm sorry it's taken so long, but this chapter is about 10,000 words long, so hopefully you'll enjoy it? Right now I'm just trying to build her relationship with others, and unlike most other authors I'll spend a lot of time on it aha so I'm sorry about that. I think I'll say it again, but guys I'm sorry, there won't be any romance for quite a while, so if you came here looking for that, then I'm sorry, come back in about 16 chapters' time aha cause there's just a lot fo brooding and a lot of angst for now.

So, yeah, sorry for taking so long, and please, pleaseeee review with kind words and constructive criticisms (: thanks sosososo much for reading! And I shall try and update soon!

xx Kira !


	10. Chapter 9

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

_Chapter 9: A Spiders Web._

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer: **This story is so Alternate Universe it's unreal. I've taken such steps with characters which aren't mine and because of this; my disclaimer will be stating that I am not writing this for profits sake but for entertainment purposes. I wish not to make a profit and the beautiful characters with whom I work with are not mine but belong to their rightful owner J. R. R. Tolkien, as does the universe in which I write belong to him as well. Once again, this is for entertainment purposes, thank you.

**A/N**: Heyhey, so, hopefully this chapter will be a little better written than the last, and hopefully a little shorter, as I'm sure you guys' heads were swimming with the amount of words written last time. I'm writing this chapter blindly until maybe the last bit, so prepare yourself aha thank you to my long time readers, and if you've just climbed aboard the ship to Valinor, try Anneth's pastry's, they really are Devil's Delight (;

* * *

"Wait, you want me to do _what?_" Emily asked bewildered, her spoon filled with oatmeal pausing on the way to her mouth at the breakfast table as she stared at a calm Lindir.

"I said," He began, taking a quick bite out of an apple and pausing to chew and swallow, "That we've assigned you a job in the kitchens." He finished, as though he dolled out that line every day of his life.

For five days Emily's life aboard the ship had settled into a routine of, wake up, eat breakfast with the elves, go back to her room to read various books that Shoni had given her, eat lunch with the elves, read again, then eat dinner, and then bed. Honestly it had become such a comfortable routine that Emily had started to feel as though it wasn't even a bad imprisonment, if you even got those. She had learned, from Shoni going slow with her, how to successfully put on one of the medieval looking dresses all the elves wore and even how to do a couple of the simple braids Shoni had done in her hair one day; although it had taken hours for Shoni to teach her and at the end of it, Shoni couldn't even get a comb through her locks but 'at least you've learnt something' she had said cheerfully.

But this, this was something different. Emily's kitchen skills amounted to putting a ready meal in the microwave and maybe occasionally _not_ burning it. She could sometimes make a sandwich that looked a little appetising, and her cupcakes always ended up looking like harbingers of death. It was safe to say that she wouldn't ever be a housewife, so why Lindir even thought she could survive the heat of the kitchen was beyond her.

"Lindir, have you seen me cook?" She asked with raised eyebrows, putting down her spoon, "No, you probably haven't, because if you had, you'd be dead by now." She said matter of fact, to which a listening Elrohir grimaced. It was only Emily, Lindir, Elrohir and Arwen at the table that day, the others had all mysteriously eaten an orange and then slinked off to unknown places, so stealthily had they done it in fact that Emily hadn't realised they left until a half hour later.

Arwen raised a single perfect eyebrow, "You can't really be _that_ bad, can you?" She asked hesitantly and Emily gave a small smile to her. The beauty of Arwen was, in itself, something you had to slowly get used to, and Emily, the timid thing that she was, was finally getting used to Arwen actually being _nice_.

"Try 'I-hospitalised-my-own-father-after-he-tried-my-lasagne' and you're halfway there," Emily replied drily.

Elrohir choked on his water and spluttered a laugh, "I remember that," He said amusedly, his eyes sparkling in a way that Emily had become accustom to when he was in high spirits, normally it brought a smile to her own lips but today she frowned at him.

"What do you mean you remember?" She asked confusedly, "I don't remember you being there…" She said sceptically.

Arwen cleared her throat, "Never you mind if you aren't good at cooking," She said loudly, diverting Emily's attention away from a caught on the spot Elrohir, "Anneth will teach you all you have to know."

Emily groaned involuntarily scrunching her face with disappointed, "Anneth? The ice queen herself?" She asked incredulously, "You've got to be kidding me. She hates me!"

Lindir laughed lightly, patting Emily hand reassuringly, "No elf hates another, even a Peredhel." He said lightly, smiling so blindingly that Emily had to smile back.

"What's a peredhel?" She asked, her mouth half full with apple, to which Arwen made a face and shook her head.

"Remember what I said?" Arwen asked before Lindir could answer Emily's question, "Chew first, then talk." Emily blushed and her words and nodded, swallowing her piece of apple before turning to a grinning Elrohir, glaring at him until he had suppressed his laughter enough to answer her question.

"A Peredhel, Emily, is a half-elf." He said kindly, "Myself, and Elladan, and our sister Arwen are all Peredhel's, it means we have human blood running through our veins."

"And because of that we are given a choice, to chose the world of elves or the domain of man," Arwen finished for him, a sad smile upon her lips. "It is a hard choice." She said quietly, and Emily didn't miss when Elrohir grabbed her hand and held on.

She cocked her head to the side, "But you all chose elf right? Otherwise you wouldn't be here." She said curiously, although she never got an answer because the Harpy herself, aka, Anneth the elf walked up to the table at that moment, did her accustomed bow and asked to take Emily to the kitchen's, to which Lindir, the traitor that he was, said of course. And that is how, not five minutes later Emily found herself with an apron on her shoulders and a potato in her hand.

The kitchen was, for the most part busy, there were female and male elves alike running about, carrying trays of cooked food from what looked like roast chicken to bowls of sweet smelling soup, to others carrying trays of chopped carrots and even one young elven male carrying something that looked like octopus tentacles, inducing a shudder from the frozen in place girl. The walls were high and the room seemed too big for such a small ship, the counters were a varnished strong looking wood with various stools here and there where elves were chopping onions and decorating cakes. If you asked Emily, it was all a little hectic but oddly, it all fit into place.

"Well don't just stand there," Anneth said annoyance plain in her features, "You act as though you've never been in a kitchen before." But Emily wasn't listening to her, she was, instead looking at her ears and was shocked to find that the tips weren't as pointed as she was led to believe, they didn't taper to a point like Elrohir's, but more a rounded edge like a human's. "Lady Emily, are you even _listening_ to me?" She snapped, and Emily's eyes flew open as she nodded in what she hoped was a convincing way.

Anneth sighed as though the weight of the world were on her shoulders, "Come, I'll sit you down and hope you don't burn anything." She said rolling her eyes, walking to the left before Emily could even register her insult. Okay so I'm not _that_ bad, she thought a little stung by Anneth's words. Nevertheless, Emily followed her, manoeuvring around the streams of elves doing various tasks, and Emily wondered not for the first time, just how many elves there were on the ship.

"You will sit with Shoni until I come and get you," Anneth said and, not waiting once again to hear a reply, stalked off in the opposite direction, leaving a stunned Emily and an ever joyful Shoni in her wake. Anneth, for all her abruptness had at least brought her to a quiet corner with a square table that Shoni and male elf occupied, they were both peeling potatoes and Emily once again received a pang of jealousy as Shoni made even peeling spuds look like a cultured art.

"Good mornin' darlin'," Shoni said with a grin, and, starling Emily slightly, rose from her seat to engulf Emily in a warm embrace to which, the socially inept child she seemed to be, Emily only responded back to when Shoni began to pull away.

Emily sighed, and sat down next to the mystery elf, giving a nervous smile in his direction to which he returned full heartedly. "Emily I don't believe you've met Erynion," She said, gesturing to the male elf who Emily knew she remembered from somewhere.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, her cheeks flaming, "Weren't you the guard outside my door? The one I called-"

Erynion cut her off with a grin, "Don't worry about it, I would have probably called myself the same thing given the situation." Emily smiled slightly, not saying anything as she took the opportunity to commit his face to memory. His hair was long, as seemed to be the style of the elves, and a deep drown colour that seemed to illuminate life. He was strong looking, his posture straight and as he peeled the potato's she saw his muscles flex. His eyes, a rich forest green were large and almost childlike, sitting down he looked tall and Emily shuddered to think what his stance would be when he stood up. He was handsome of course, with his straight nose and perfect features, but there was something inviting in his face, something open that made Emily want to spill every last secret she may have.

Shoni laughed, pulling Emily out of her observations, "Well this is dandy! All the peredhel's knowing each other like this." She said cheerfully.

There was that funny word again. _Peredhel_. _Half-elven_. Elrohir had said that him and Arwen when half elven, but their ears were so pointy Emily would have never guessed, Shoni's ears were pointed, but to a soft point and Erynion's tapered to a point no matter what his ancestry was. Emily frowned as she tried to work out how to tell a peredhel from a full blood elf.

"Shoni, I don't get it, how can you and Erynion be half elves? You don't _look_ like half-elves to me…"She said uncertainly, and Emily almost laughed at the sheer surreal situation of her even having to ask that question in the first place.

Erynion smiled kindly, moving on to, what looked like, his four hundredth potato to peel. "Not all Peredhel have human features, Lady Emily, although you may notice that Shoni's ears are not quite as sharply pointed, how Anneth's ears are the same or that my features aren't quite as sharp as say, Glorfindel's." He explained softly, and Emily realised what it was that was so inviting about his face. He looked more _human_ than the other elves; and call her selfish, but Emily revelled in the idea that someone may be closer to her race.

It was quiet for a while, Emily struggling to peel what must have been her third potato (whenever she was done with a potato Shoni or Erynion's would discreetly take it and peel it properly before putting it back in her pile) as the mild din of the kitchen filled her ears. "Where did the elves come from?" She blurted out, and, so intent was she on peeling the potato that she missed half of the beings in the vast kitchen stop their chatter and inch towards her to hear her conversation.

Erynion smiled at the innocent child and, not for the first time, wondered just why on earth she was accompanying them on their journey to Aman. "The elves are from, Arda, Emily." He replied, stealing one of her potato's to make her feel better about her, quite frankly, awful potato peeling skills.

"Arda…"She trailed off, "That means like Planet Earth, right? Elrohir's always sprouting something about it or another." She said and Shoni smiled when she heard a fond note in the girls' voice.

"Yes, it means Arda in Elvish," Erynion continued, "And Lady Emily you must call him Lord Elrohir." He said with a smile.

Emily frowned, pausing in her actions, "What do you mean I have to call him Lord, he's not a Lord, a pain in the butt, but not a Lord." She said quietly, now aware of the hush in the kitchen that, a few moments before had been replaced by chatter.

Shoni snorted in a very unladylike manor, but who was Emily to talk, she should be a boy for all of her so called social skills, "He may be a pain in the ass, darlin', but you can't say that, he's royalty and you know how some Royals get." She said with a grin to which Emily smiled distractedly too.

She didn't understand. It was like the elves had taken a massive step backwards in all of their formalities, this whole 'Lady Emily' thing was already grating on her nerves, but now this? "I still don't understand," She said quietly, and Anneth chose that exact moment to swoop down on them.

"You do not understand," She began in her regal English accent, "Because you were not brought up in the ways of old." She stated calmly but with an undercurrent of something foul, picking up all the potato's that had been peeled and putting them in a basket resting on her hip, held into place with her right arm.

Emily scoffed, "And I suppose you were?" She asked defiantly, "What did they do? Teach you where a woman's place is and how she should behave?" She asked incredulously.

"You act so surprised to find out the way of the elves," Anneth said with narrowed eyes, "No, we do not make such distinctions between men and women and humans do, but it is also not practical for women to run around in breeches and men in dresses as your culture so wrongly says they may. You will call Lord Elrohir, 'Lord', because it is a sign of respect." She added, staying her actions of placing all the potato's in a basket to stare at Emily.

Emily stared back, an eyebrow raised; _I really don't like this girl_, she thought sourly, "Fine." She said, turning in her seat to peel more potatoes, and then frowning when she realised there were none left. "Can I go back to my room now?" She asked, turning back around to find a narrow eyed Anneth still standing there.

"No." She replied bluntly, "You will stay here and earn your keep like the rest of us." And with that she stalked off, leaving two stunned Peredhel and a wide eyed Emily in her wake.

"Man," Emily said a little numbly, "And to think I thought she was pretty…"

Shoni coughed to hide her laugh, "I assure you darl', she isn't normally that rude, although she can have her moments."

Erynion reached out on impulse to give Emily's hand a gentle squeeze for reassurance, "Don't take it personally, she just generally doesn't like humans." He said, as though he said it every day.

"But…" Emily frowned, "I thought she was half-elven half-human..."

"Exactly," Shoni said with a sigh, her eyes far away, "And she hates her human blood for making her what she feels in her eyes 'impaired'."

Emily sighed, rubbing her head, "Its going to be a long day." She muttered, causing Erynion to laugh, and the tension in the room to dissipate.

* * *

Glorfindel was pacing. An oddly human thing to have picked up, but alas, he was indeed pacing. To pinpoint what exact reason would require Eru himself as the male elf was feeling so much and had so much on his mind that picking out a particular feeling or thought would be impossible. First and foremost, he was hungry and tired, he hadn't been eating or sleeping properly since they had boarded the ship and it was from his elven ancestry alone that the tiredness did not show. Second was the anticipation and enjoyment at finally going home, only a month and a week left of their journey now that every time Valinor was even mentioned in passing his face would erupt into a massive grin. And thirdly was the girl, whose overall confusing demeanour and even more riddled past almost overrode the happiness at going home and when he had seen her that morning at breakfast, he had found it hard to wrap his head around the hybrid nature of her being.

There came a knock at the door, and not a second too soon as Glorfindel had been on a collision course with one of the walls in the meeting room. The meeting room was, in fact, the same room they had brought Emily into upon her entering the ship and so, had been picked to be the place where the group would come when they needed to discuss her; something which Glorfindel tended not to want to be a part of. Not, because he was disinterested, but because for some reason, he would just rather not know what the girl was. He was a reserved man, closed, sectioned, suave. A man like that didn't need anymore complications, he needed orders, and instructions and, apparently he needed to loosen up according to Elladan which was rich coming from him, Glorfindel always scoffed, the man's an unmovable boulder.

"Glorfindel, are you quite alright?" Came a hesitant voice, causing the Eldar elf to start, spinning on his heal quickly and narrowing his eyes to the intruder. His stance however relaxed as he saw it to be, speak of the devil, Elladan, his brother, Lindir and Gandalf, all staring at him as though he had grown a second head.

Not quite knowing how to respond, he nodded and motioned for the others to sit around the mahogany table. When all were seated Gandalf began his anticipated explanation as to why he had all called them there in the first place.

"Good morning," Gandalf said firstly, giving a too long pause for a greeting that really, needed no pause at all. But that, Glorfindel reasoned, was just Gandalf. Pausing in places that there needn't be a pause at all. In an odd way, it summed the Maia up in a sentence. "It has come to my attention that Emily, upon hearing Elrohir's explanation, half believes what we have told her."

Lindir nodded and Glorfindel frowned, "Which is?" He asked.

"That her father," Elrohir began, "Was born in Valinor, got into an argument and left for earth, had her and her sister and now an assassination is being planned- that is why we had to grab her and run."

Glorfindel grinned slightly, "Believable enough," he muttered and Lindir gave a small snort.

"Yes, but unfortunately, we seemed to have acquired the smarter twin and she doesn't quite believe our stories spun on a spider's web," Gandalf said; his voice an octave lower than most people's, "It is for these facts that I have called you here today. We must make her believe," He said, nodding to no one in particular.

"And how, pray tell, do you suppose we do that?" Glorfindel asked drily, honestly wishing he was in some other place, and dreading the fact that this plan to make the girl believe somehow involved him.

Elladan rolled his eyes, "Do not worry, mellon, we require no magic acts, just a simple phone call." He said and Glorfindel's eyes narrowed.

"What has a phone call got to do with the Lady Emily believing anything we have to say?" Glorfindel asked.

"Better yet," Lindir piped up, "What is a phone?"

* * *

Emily's kitchen duty extended to such a length of time that in the end she gave up trying to count how long she had been there, and her hands, which had been used to peel so many vegetables, were raw and dry, smelling of all sorts that made the new Yorker feel sick to the stomach. She was sitting in the same spot she had been sitting in for the entire day, Erynion and Shoni working tirelessly beside her, often asking how she was 'faring'. The switch in language was such that any use of non-modern speech threw her off balance; she would pause, blink, and then stutter a reply in an odd imitation of her more formal speech, which on many occasions failed miserably and she had to resort back to how she normally spoke, slightly confusing both Peredhel.

She was busily peeling an apple for a pie that Shoni was to prepare when she got a light tap on her shoulder, startling her so much that she dropped the apple mid peel, cursing loudly at her misfortune, receiving a chuckle from Erynion. Emily turned around quickly on her stool, ready to chew someone out for ruining her good work, only to be startled again when she came face to face with an annoyed looking Anneth and an amused looking Lindir.

"Your sentence has been conveniently pardoned," Anneth clipped her face impassive, "Your shift will end now, be back tomorrow after breakfast." She gave a brief nod to Erynion and Shoni, spun on her heal and stalked off to a young elf carefully carrying the top half of a beautifully decorated cake.

Emily watched her go before jumping up gleefully and ripping of the stained apron, throwing it down on her stool with a triumphant exclamation, "Finally!" She said with a grin, "Freedom is in my sights."

Lindir, who stood behind her laughed and shook his head at her such human antics, "Come, I think there's something you want to see." He said, placing a guiding hand on her shoulder and towing her along so quickly that she was only able to manage a short wave to the two peredhel's that had made her stay in hell not quite so daunting.

Stumbling along after Lindir, she took note of the amount of twists and turns taken to get back to her bedroom, wondering how on earth the ship seemed so big on the inside yet so small and compact on the outside. "Lindir where are we going?" She asked, noticing for the first time that the brightly lit wood hallways were lit in the day time by small portholes she had never noticed before, and that beside every porthole was a painting of different elves, all of had a name written in a delicate hand and language, both of which Emily had no way of deciphering.

Lindir didn't answer her question but instead stopped abruptly making Emily stumble forward and knock into his back lightly, "Sorry," She murmured quietly, stepping back quickly, lowering her head to hide her embarrassment, not noticing Lindir's normally happy face twist into something remorseful. "Come, we have your bag, we thought you'd like it, to remind you of home." He said quietly, but there was something wrong with his voice, Emily noticed, and her head swivelled up to ask if he was alright, but by the time she looked at him his features were set back into his normal joyful self and Emily felt herself fumbling for anything to say. So instead, she pushed open the door and found herself in her room, her eyes flying wide when he saw her overnight bag lying on her bed like it had always been there.

She ran towards her bed in delight, tripping over the hem of her dress twice before finally collapsing on the soft sheets, diving into the bag and pulling out the one thing she had been dreaming of for three weeks. Her spare phone. So engrossed was she in trying to turn it on and hoping the battery hadn't run out, that she didn't even notice Lindir walk in behind her and seat himself on the chair next to the bed as though he were the king of England himself.

Fumbling with the phone Emily cursed many times before she even remembered where the on button was, it seemed that even a few weeks spent with the elves that chose to live as the Amish might had severely hindered her memory of such simple things as phones. After an agonising thirty seconds which felt to Emily like thirty hours she pressed the right button and the phone immediately booted up, its internal solar panels working in her favour as the light of the sun shone directly onto her from her bedroom window.

"Lady Emily what is that?" Lindir asked quietly and Emily's heart leapt from her chest at his sudden words. She turned to him, ready to chew him out but stopped when she saw the inquisitive and intrigued expression on the males face. It made Emily smile to watch his eyes glitter as he watched her hands hold the object.

Emily chuckled lightly, earning a glare from Lindir, "It's a phone, Lindir; you've never seen one before?" She asked confusedly, although really, it didn't entirely surprise her what with the whole 'we live by the fruits of the earth' thing elves always seemed to be harping about.

"No…" He murmured quietly, "Valinor does not have such techonologies." He said and Emily pushed her hand out towards him, trying to hand him the phone so that he could have a look and Lindir, the curious elf he was took the phone in his nimble fingers, turing it over between his palms as he examined it. "You can talk to anyone?" He asked in wonder, "Anyone around the world?"

Emily nodded her head, "And you can even find our where they are and any given time thanks to a little thing called GPS. Or, your Global Positioning System." She sighed toying with her hands which in all honesty had to washed, and soon. "But you know, phones aren't all good." She said.

Lindir snapped his head up, his eyebrows pushed together, "How can they not be good?" He asked.

"Well," She began, "Sometimes they can be used to co-ordinate attacks, to cause explosions and the like." She explained quietly, her eyes far away, "It was a good idea…But that's what humans do, right? Take a good idea and turn it into something ugly." She said bitterly and, Lindir, sensing her agitation, handed back her phone with a small smile.

"Why is that light flashing on it?" He asked, his eyes large once more as he watched the phone shake.

Emily frowned, "It means I've got a message…" She said confusedly, flipping open the phone and gasping when he saw the amount of missed calls. There was no number, but they must have been from Sarah or her mom. Deleting the missed calls notifications she set the phone down and sighed, all she had to do now was-

A loud buzzing sounded throughout the room cutting off her thoughts as Lindir jumped up, his eyes practically bulging from his fair face, "It means someone's calling me," Emily whispered, peering down at it, Lindir's head next to hers as they watched the phone buzz and flash.

"Aren't you going to answer it then?" Lindir asked quietly, withdrawing back to his seat, watching her with guarded eyes. Emily nodded mutely and picked the phone up with shaking fingers. After almost two weeks without any contact this was the moment of truth. She waved her hand over the screen to activate the call button. All was silent for a moment and then, "Emily!" Called a voice and Emily heart did a somersault in her chest, Sarah. She knew her sister wouldn't forget about her.

"Sarah?" Emily called out excitedly, "Are you alright? Where's dad? Have you heard from mom?" All of her questions seemed to pour straight out of her heart and tumble into one whispered plead, "Are you okay?"

"Emily," Came Sarah's frantic voice, she sounded out of breath, like she had been running to someone…or running away from some_thing_. "Some guys are after me and daddy," She said frantically and Emily's heart turned to ice in her chest, "I don't know what they want, but I think we're going to be okay, we're heading for the airport, okay?"

"Oh god," Emily breathed and her heart ached for her lost sister, "It's okay Sarah, I'm coming to get you okay? You just gotta hang on, my god you just have to hang _on_." She said forcefully, her voice cracking.

"No!" Sarah's voice came out, and Emily frowned, "Don't come, they may get you too, Emily I'm scared but wherever you are, you're safe, okay? When the men, when they first came they said one daughter had escaped, that means you Emmy, you're okay, you're safe."

"But what about you and daddy!" Emily cried, and she could hear in the distance someone choking back sobs frightened sobs.

"We'll be fine!" Sarah said, but her voice was fading, the line started to crackle and Emily lurched forward trying to keep in signal.

"Sarah! Sarah I can't hear you, where are you? Sarah? Where's dad?" She practically screamed down the phone, "Sarah!"

"I—you-keep-and-know-you." Static separated the second twins' words, the meaning lost in the bad connection, the line falling dead after her last quiet word.

Someone was sobbing and screaming and all Emily wanted was for them to shut up and give her a moment to think. Dropping the phone she jumped from the bed, stepping backwards continuously until her back hit the wall and she was as far as she could possibly be from the blasted bit of machinery. The screaming had finally stopped and, raising a hand to her mouth Emily was disgusted to see that it was _her_ who was sobbing uncontrollably, and more importantly her who had probably been screaming bloody murder itself. She felt like she was about to throw up. Sarah was safe. But for how long?

Lindir rushed forward, blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense out of what had just happened, approaching the girl with his palms up, he didn't have to try and hug her, she lurched forward instinctively, gripping onto his tunic as though she herself were dying and held him tight. And Lindir, not knowing what else to do wrapped his arms around her and cradled her to his chest. This human, this girl, so important was she in such a significant plan, the enemy some may say, and here he was cradling her as though she were a frightened elfling. Honestly, he thought with a heavy heart as he tried to make light of the situation, what would my mother say?

* * *

Glorfindel disconnected the call, snapping the phone shut and throwing it to Gandalf. He was a few rooms down from Emily's and he could still hear the girl crying as though the world itself was about to come to an end. "Are you happy now?" He ground out, his anger barely keeping itself below the surface. Elrohir sat in a chair next to his standing form, Elladan sitting next to his brother. Aragorn had taken Arwen out after the girl had started screaming and Legolas stood with a pained expression on his face by the door, not knowing if he should leave or stay, or which was worse for him or for the girl. "Convinced are you now that she believes? That is, if she doesn't have a mental breakdown." He added sarcastically, feeling the weight of his guilt on his heart and hating it.

Glorfindel was used to cleaning up messes, not causing them. This web of deceit they had spun…It had to come crashing down at some point. And, at which point, he wasn't entirely too sure if the girl had it in her to take it.

"Yes," The Maia responded, "Quite… grateful." Again, Glorfindel noted, a pause where there wasn't needed one. What Glorfindel needed was noise, lots of noise, so much noise that it would drown out the sounds of Emily's howling and possibly render him so stunned that he forget what the harrowing sounds were in beginning. "You may think this was not needed-" He began and Glorfindel cut him off.

"It wasn't needed." He said forcefully, his eyes flashing and his heart thudding painfully, as he quietly heard Lindir try to calm the girl down to no avail.

"But now she has no choice but to subconsciously co-operate," Gandalf barrelled on as though no interruption had occurred, "From what you have told me, she will do almost anything he sister asks, and her sister has asked her to stay with us. She will put up no fight." He said, watching Glorfindel carefully, knowing and seeing the Elf Lord's temper peaking and watching for the moment. "Another call must be made once settled in Valinor. When we get the signal that Sauron and the second twin have crossed onto the outer plains." He said with a nod as he turned towards the door, moving past an immobile Legolas and creaking open the door, "I will call on you again Glorfindel," A pause, "Know this."

The door swung shut behind him and all was silent for a split second that was until Glorfindel, letting his anger show for the first time in over a century, picked up a stand alone stool and threw it at the wall, watching in satisfaction as it broke apart and splintered. "Brother…Brother calm," Elladan said softly, walking towards the much older elf cautiously.

"Don't." Glorfindel hissed out in Quenya, his anger causing him to revert back to his former tongue. "Do not approach me, I-"

But Glorfindel, in his infinite Glory, didn't get to say what he would do if someone approached him for that very second the door slammed open and Emily bounded in, tears streaming down her face as she blindly ran, groping for anyone to help her, the phone in her left hand. Glorfindel immediately changed his features, twisting them into a confused state and unclenching his hands, Elrohir jumped up from his seat and smiled at no one in particular, Legolas became mobile, and his face confused as he pretended to ask Lindir what was the matter.

Emily stumbled and tripped into Glorfindel, burying her face into his chest as she tried to choke out her words, "S-Sarah…" She seemed to wail, "T-they said stay here a-and safe, but what about them?" She asked her voice so broken Glorfindel's anger peaked at its tone instantly.

Never again. Glorfindel vowed as he tried to shush her, staring over the top of her head at Lindir's pained expression, Never again.

* * *

Okayokay, don't kill me please ! I know its short, and I know I haven't updated in forever, but basically, I kinda forgot where I was going and so I decided to end it here!

I hope you enjoy it, and hopefully the next chapter will come pretty soon aha

Thankyou for staying with me ! And don't forget to leave me a review (: I need your help, I can't do it on my own !


	11. Chapter 10

**History Revolvo Ipsum**

_Chapter 9: Of History Lessons and Elves._

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer: **Thank you for reading this. This story was written for purely entertainment purposes, no profit will be made from this. Any characters recognised belong to J. R. R. Tolkien, and should not assumed as my own. All other characters belong to my mind. I have merely combined the two and made a story with such liberties. Again, the world and characters belong to Tolkien except my own, thank you.

**A/N**: Hey! Its update time! I know my last chapter was inadequate and for that I'm sorry! And I'm sorry for this one! Honestly, nothing really happens and it's just a filler chapter but you know, it's got elven goodness so that's all that really matters, right? aha This is the chapter were I get to show off all my research and knowledge into the Tolkien fandom aha anyways Thank you for reading and if you're a returning member, welcome back, if you're new, hold on tight, it'll be a bumpy ride!

* * *

Four and a half days later, and Emily had taken to not sleeping and eating whatever she could find whenever she could find it. It had gotten to the point that Anneth had to ban her from the kitchen and Lindir restricting her to only a plate and a half at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Not that he could stop her when she decided it was snack time, some of the older women elves seemed taken with her when she begged like a child for a cookie or a pie and Lindir, exasperated that all his attempts to stop her comfort eating had failed, eventually gave up and let her have her snack times.

Arwen, Aragorn and Gandalf all seemed to have made themselves scarce, none of them wanting to ruffle the feathers of the already mad Glorfindel whose mood had merely deteriorated slightly in the presence of anyone who essentially wasn't the Vala themselves.

It was dinner time and Emily was now trusted to make her own way to dinner without throwing herself off the side of the ship, or, that's the scenario Emily had come up with. She had taken to washing her hands more often now, a side-effect of anxiety and worry over her sister; she was trying to fill that clawing hole in the middle of her chest, and, thanks to her genetic make-up, she filled that hole by scrubbing her hands raw. Emily was in her room, getting ready for the meal, spending time on her hair before she finally got up and went to the bathroom to wash her hands. Already raw and scabbing she scrubbed them hard, somehow the mild stinging from that distracted her from the thoughts of her sister and she was grateful and calm for a while.

But, alas, all good things come to and end and she had to put the rock down, her hands, when she looked down in some shock were bleeding in places, and bruised in others. She ran them under the tap for a minute or two before drying them properly, hoping the staunch the gentle drip form a particularly deep cut. Grimacing into the mirror above the make shift sink, she gave herself a grim once over and then quickly left her room, holding her hands in front of her under a fold in her dress to keep from drawing attention to them.

Sarah had told her to stay, so, stay she would. The phone call was ever present in her mind and all she could think and wonder was whether her sister was alright and how eating was the only thing she seemed to be good at lately. Finding the dinner hall she opened the door, keeping her head down as she made her way to the top table where she always sat at, only to walk into something or more correctly some_one_.

"Hello Lady Emily," Came a deep voice and Emily looked up tiredly, unconsciously rubbing her right eye, "Ready for the apple pie?" Emily squinted against the chandelier light and noticed the smiling face of Erynion. She tried to smile back; although she was pretty sure it ended up coming out like a tight grimace. She sighed, this was going to take some work, convincing everyone she was completely fine that is.

"Yeah," She said quietly, shutting her eyes against a wave of fatigue, she could feel a headache building between her temples."Can't wait." She tried for enthusiastic but her words merely came out sounding flat even to her own ears. Shaking her head slightly she wondering when God was ever going to give her a damn break.

Erynion cocked his head to the side, looking curiously at her hands which she lowered to her sides, "Are you alright Lady Emily?" He asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, which she subsequently shoved off with an exhale of breath through her nose, scrunching her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I'm fine, Erynion," She said, her words wooden, she even managed a wobbly smile, "I just need to sit down, I'll see you later." She finished, and, without waiting for a reply stepped around him and walked towards her table, pulling out a chair away from the others and clutching her head in her hands.

A servant came bearing her food, saving herself having to talk to the others at the table whose small talk and carefully picked words would have sent her over the edge. So much time without sleep wasn't healthy and Emily was judging but the increasing headaches that she needed a lot of sleep. And soon.

She ate her food quickly, and, for the first time left pieces of food on her plate and declined seconds, this got the attention of Lindir. "Do you not want you daily second portion of everything?" He asked teasingly from a seat down from Emily, watching her hands carefully and wondering whey they were such a red colour.

"No." She answered curtly, her voice tight. She didn't even remove her head from her hands to look at him. "If you'll excuse me." She said, standing up so quickly that her chair tipped backwards. Her headache was gaining intensity at a stupidly high pace, her vision was blurred and the need to get out of the room and away from the elves was of a vital essence. She ended up half running half stumbling out of the room, ignoring the calls from Lindir and Elrohir, and not noticing the stares of the other elves. The lights in the corridor dimmed and the overwhelming sense to be still was so great that she staggered into an unlocked room and collapsed by the door, reaching up gingerly to lock it from the inside, putting her head between her legs to slow her heart.

Her phone hadn't rung. She had tried calling Sarah back everyday since the phone call, but each time it would go straight to voicemail. Surely if Sarah was safe she would turn on her mobile, either that or she hasn't got reception, Emily tried to think logically, noticing that when she calmed down, so did her breathing. Or maybe, she dropped her phone running, she offered, smiling as her logic took over her brain. Just as her breathing slowed she was hit by a wave of nausea that almost knocked her backwards, her breathing became ragged as she struggled to keep conscious. Eventually, the need to pass out was too strong for her body and the lights dimmed before she slumped sideways.

* * *

All was quiet when she finally woke up, her head a mess of fog and her limbs feeling like jelly. Dim light streamed in from a medium sized porthole and it took her a moment to realise where she was and how she had gotten there. Despite her early misplacement she certainly felt better. Her head, for once, was clear and her eyes didn't seem to have that glazed film over it which prevented her from seeing in anything other than dull greys for the past few days. She felt rested. And, if she were to admit it, a little peaceful. But she didn't. Because that would mean she was forgetting about Sarah, which she wasn't. And she certainly wasn't forgetting what Sarah had told her.

Obviously the elves had inadvertently (or completely purposefully) saved her from a fate she assumed was worse than death. That being the case, and the fact that she was in the middle of the sea, she supposed it would be best for her to start trusting them a little more. Not so much that she began to throw herself at them, but maybe she could smile a little more at Aragorn, and maybe she wouldn't be so hard on Anneth, although, that may be impossible for even the most gracious of hearts.

Emily smiled to herself as she stumbled up from the floor, unlocking the door and stepping out into an empty hallway. Her stomach rumbled and she decided to answer its call, padding towards the dining room and hoping no one would notice that she was in the same clothes she had been the day before, albeit a bit more wrinkled. Pushing open the door, her smile slipped from her face as she perceived the hush that had come over the hall. A blush crept up her neck as her eyes darted from elf to elf, wondering what on earth she had done wrong now. Smoothing down her dress, she knitted her hands together, itching at the raw skin as she wished to wash them.

She barely made it two steps before someone stood in her path causing her to come to a halt. She looked up and immediately took a step backward a feeling of _de ja vu_ washing over her.

"Where in _Arda_ have you been?" Came the tight faced, thin-lipped question.

Emily gulped visibly, aware that the whole dining room had stopped everything to hear her answer. If she were paying attention- which she wasn't- she would have noticed that most of the faces sowed nothing but concern, and if she had speculated, she would have realised they were concerned for _her_. "Er…" She paused, trying to come up with a convincing excuse and instead settled on the truth, "I fell asleep?" She tried to explain, although it sounded more like a question.

"For two days?" Glorfindel asked, his barely concealed annoyance for her was bubbling to the surface and he had a hard time reigning in the urge to swear at her in Quenya. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been?" He seethed, "We lowered the anchor! Thinking you had pulled another stunt and tried to down yourself-"

Emily's eyes widened, "I didn't try to kill myself." She whispered, upset for some reason, although Glorfindel carried on like she hadn't even spoken.

"Do you know how important you are? Or how idiotic you've been? You're acting like a child!" He scoffed, "You _are_ a child, running off when things get too tough, being rude just because you feel like you do not fit in. Crying uncontrollably about your sister. Honestly I-"

His words cut off as a slap resounded around the room. Many of the passengers gasping, eyes flying wide as Glorfindel clutched his cheek. "Don't you _ever_ talk to me again." She said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Bearing in mind her rapid heart rate, she was considerably calmer than she should have been as she turned her back on the shocked Eldar and made her way to her room, ignoring the horrified stares of the elves on her way. She didn't really know how their society worked, but she was sure what she had just did was the biggest no-no she could have ever done.

But she didn't care. She meant it. To hell with all this trusting the elves, they'd be lucky if she didn't just do what Glorfindel and said and drowned herself to rid them of her 'childish' behaviour. She seethed. How dare he have that outburst. It wasn't like she had fallen asleep for that long on _purpose_. When your body says sleep, it's generally hard to tell your brain _not_ to shut down for your own good. She didn't understand him. She didn't understand that whole goddamned ship. And this whole elf thing? It was just weird. Like, who the hell even made them? She thought all people were supposed to look like God. What kind of messed up God made them?

She knew she was being ridiculous, but Glorfindel's words had hurt her. They thought she was being ridiculous when in reality, how else was she supposed to act? She had been pampered and provided for her whole life. She didn't know how to handle this- this _thing_. The most horrible thing that had happened to her was her therapy sessions. The biggest thing she had killed before saving Elladan was a fly. She wasn't cut out for this whole renaissance crap the elves seem to be sporting. She sighed heavily, walking into her room and completely missing the two elves seated at a chair beside her bed.

Instead, she slowed her steps, rubbing her eyes as she made her way into her little ensuite bathroom. If you could call a medieval looking metal-type bathtub and a rough sink a full ensuite. It wasn't until she looked down that she realised her hands had already turned on the taps and she had begun her daily cleansing hands routine of scrubbing away the dirt. Her mind was on auto-pilot as she freely bad mouthed Glorfindel out loud, her harsh words bouncing off the walls of her bathroom. Finished, she put down the rock and washed her hands free of any blood that may have seeped from open woods distractedly. She needed to bathe, but she didn't think she had it in her to call for Anneth or Shoni to help her get her water.

So, instead, she walked out into her room, only to have the shock of her life when upon looking up noticed Gandalf clear his throat and smile at her warmly, looking to his right to see that Erestor guy looking at her in an amused way. Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes flew from her skull.

"I-"She tried to begin, breathing heavily as her face acquired a red tint, "I didn't mean- Well, I did mean- I-" Sighing as she stumbled with her words, she rubbed a hand over her face and looked at them with a worried expression. "Will I get into trouble for bitch slapping him?" She asked quietly, surprised when she normally stoic Erestor happily laughed for a bit at her expense.

"You will hear no qualm from me," He said when he had quietened down, "I would have probably told him off, but slapping him seemed to do the same trick."

Emily's eyes seemed to be in a permanent state of bugged as she regarded the scholar before her. She hadn't really spoken to Erestor, the only time she did was to mumble a good morning whenever he was in her range of hearing at meal times. And even then she had found out that he was a scholar from Lindir. She didn't even see him often, he always seemed to be absent with Gandalf the whatever and she wondered idly if they ever ate, considering how skinny the dark haired elf was.

"Erm- " She began, feeling uncomfortable in her own room wasn't something she was used to.

"Do not fret, we will leave you alone soon enough, we just wanted to make sure you were alright," Erestor cut in, a small smile on his face while Emily frowned at him. It was unusual for her to see him smile, he always seemed to be in a permanent contemplative, _dull_ mood. It was unsettling.

"I'm fine," Emily mumbled, and she looked to Gandalf for help, he raised an eyebrow and it was clear she'd have to brave this one on her own.

"Are you really, Lady Emily?" Gandalf asked, his staff leaning against the chair leg as his grey eyes probed her for the truth.

Maybe it was because he reminded her of the grandfathers she had seen on TV, or the fact that Erestor looked like the perfect 'Dad' type, but half an hour later she found herself sitting on her bed, telling them stories of her and Sarah when they were younger. They never questioned her, only understood that it made her feel better to talk to someone about her loved ones. Erestor genuinely loved hearing about earth, and because most elves had no like in the new technologies, Emily's complete dependence on them fascinated him.

She had just finished a story from when they were five when Erestor looked at her, anticipating another question; she was an inquisitive little thing he noticed, always asking questions, always wanting to learn. He wondered if it were like that for all of the Edain. "How long until we are there? In Valinor, I mean." She said quietly, staring at a spot on the floor as though it held all the answers.

"Six days," Gandalf replied immediately, "Two to reach the borders of this world, two to pass through the Helcaraxë and two to make it to the shores alive." He said, a grin on his lips and Emily found it hard to imagine what was so funny.

She paused a while though, taking in his words, "What did you mean 'the borders of this world'?" She asked confusedly.

Gandalf however, stood up, taking his staff and began walking to the door to Emily's immense confusion, "Now that, Miss Elias," He said conspiratorially, "Is something you'll have to figure out." And with that, he was through the door with a swish of white robes.

Emily was silent again for a while before she smiled slightly, "Is he always like that?" She asked, gesturing towards the door.

"What is wrong with your hand?" Erestor asked instead, his eyes trying to focus on her fingers as she pulled them back, shoving them under her un-made covers.

She smiled airily, "Oh it's nothing, I just itched it too much, all this rocking and all."

Erestor stared at her a while before nodding slightly, "Well, come on, we have things to learn." He said after a moment, his expression changing into one of pleasant arrival.

"What do you mean?" She asked, staring at him with suspicious eyes.

He chuckled, "Curiosity killed the cat," He said before rising as Gandalf had and made his way to the door, "I shall come and fetch you at dinner." He said, reaching the door, and Emily blanched at the thought of having to walk through the dinning hall with all those Elves staring at her. As though sensing her unease he tuned back and smiled at her softly, "Get there fifteen minutes early and I shall sit with you," He said, and, before she could agree or decline, he was through the door and off to Eru knows where, as Lindir would have put it.

* * *

"I still cannot believe she slapped him." Elrohir said, shaking his head at the lunch table. The event of early was still fresh in everyone's thoughts and one thing was for sure: No one could quite make up their mind on what they thought.

Lindir chuckled, "Well, he _was_ being a dick."

Arwen gasped, her face contorting into outrage, "Lindir!" She said disapprovingly, her eyes wide from shock, "Who taught you that word!" She asked, although it mainly came out as a horrified statement.

Elladan suddenly found his dinner goblet incredibly interesting, and pretended to tune out of the conversation. Arwen shook her head and sighed, she couldn't keep them all under check, "Whether he was being _prude_," She put emphasis on the much better term, "Or not, she still shouldn't have slapped him. Of course, he deserved it, but maybe next time she'll use that quick tongue I know she has."

"Quick tongue or not, I still say he was being a dick." Lindir muttered, only to receive a sharp kick to his shin under the table and another round of scolding from Arwen.

* * *

Surprisingly, Erestor's invitation of fifteen minutes to dinner time came quicker than Emily had originally bargained. She spent her day in her room, ignoring any knocks at the door from a concerned Lindir or Elrohir and only opening it to let Anneth bustle in and make her bath for her, dropping off a clean dress as she did so. Going through the motions of her routine dread settled in her heart at the thought of having to go back into the dining room. It was only now, hours after reigning in her temper that she realised how stupid she really had been. She was acting like a child, and, compared to the lot of them, she was a child. But that didn't excuse his behaviour or her own. He didn't have to be so rude, and she _really_ didn't have to overreact and slap him. She sighed; it _had_ been fulfilling though to watch his eyes widen in shock and his face slacken in his shock. She laughed a little, picking up her little handy cleansing rock and scrubbing her hands, she'd have to make a mental note to apologise to Glorfindel.

Although that wasn't what was on her mind, no, what was on her mind was what Erestor wanted from her. He had said they had things to learn. What things? They barely knew each other. What could she possibly learn from her? Or him from her?

Sighing, she washed her hands repeatedly before hurrying out of her room and praying to God she didn't run into any elf on her way. As lady luck would have it, the hallways were quiet as she made a way to the dining room, hugging the walls just in case anyone rounded a corner and demanded to speak to her for some odd reason. She came up to the dining room double doors and let out a breath she didn't even know she had been holding at the sight of Erestor dressed impeccably and standing before the door, a small smile gracing his fair features as he looked at her.

She tugged at her dress in a nervous gesture as she stood before him, blushing slightly as he appraised her, "You look lovely, Lady Emily," He said with a sincere smile, "Should we enter?"

Emily nodded, deciding to keep her mouth shut as she followed him into the deserted dining room. "The early comers shall be along soon, and I thought you would want to avoid them," He said conversationally, stirring her not to their usual table but to one off to the side of the room, "And, to save you further discomfort I also thought it best if we sat with your peredhel friends, Erynion and Shoni." He said and Emily could swear she felt her face split in half as she beamed at him.

She barely knew him yet he seemed to know what to do to make her feel at least a little better, "Thank you," She managed in a small whisper. Maybe getting to know and trust the elves wasn't going to be so hard after all. He nodded at her in way of answer and held out a chair, waiting until she sat down to push it into the table. He said beside her and watched as she rearranged her cutlery to ensure they were straight.

"What are we going to learn?" She asked suddenly, tucking her hands securely into her lap when she noticed his line of vision. Best not to let him see the state of her hands and have to explain what obsessive compulsive disorder was, only to have him tell Glorfindel and him be even _more_ disgusted with her.

"The inhabitants of Valinor speak a number of dialects. For example, the noble Vanyar speak Quenya, or sometimes it can be known as Quendya, you may have heard Glorfindel speak it once in a while. He has been known to talk in his native tongue when he is not in control of his emotions." Emily cocked her head to the side, so there were different races of elves. She didn't know why it fascinated her so much, there were different races of human beings, why should the elves be any different? "The Noldor, or rather, the Noldor who stayed behind speak Quenya, although the exiled Noldor spoke Sindarin. The sindar elves are elves who started the journey to Aman but stayed."

Emily's head began to swim. Vanyar, Noldor, exiles, Sindar? This was a little too much to take in. She shook her head and held up her hands, "Erestor," She began then cleared her throat and started again, remembering Shoni's words, "_Lord_ Erestor, I mean, this all sounds fascinating, but can we like, start at the beginning? I can't learn anything if you start in the middle." She said with a small smile to which Erestor returned warmly.

"Of course, Lady Emily, after dinner I will start at the beginning. I will first tell the story of the elves and then we can approach the language." He paused and looked around him at the elves streaming in through the now fully open doors, "I know it is a lot to take it, and I probably should have started earlier, but, I think now you are ready." He said.

"Ready for what?" She asked confusedly, watching with nervous eyes as Elves looked at her with an assortment of eyes. Some were curious, some were disproving, some were amused and others were just as confused as she felt.

"Ready to _want_ to learn." He said simply as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Emily opened her mouth to reply only to be cut off by arms wrapping around her from behind. Shoni sat down beside her excitedly, babbling about how she had been missed and what was the matter and other things that Shoni seemed to always babble about. Erynion sat opposite her and Emily's heart dropped and her lips quivered slightly.

"I'm sorry." She said to him, cutting Shoni short. He looked up at her and cocked his head to his said, a small smile playing on his lips. "For being rude that other day. I don't even have an excuse, I'm just sorry."

"Forgiven," He said softly, smiling at her fully now. She breathed out a relieved sigh, one apology down, about two hundred more to make. "Shall we eat?" He asked and Shoni laughed beside her, not upset in the least that her chatter had been cut off, piling food onto Emily's plate as she sent a shy smile to Erestor.

* * *

An hour later and Emily was beaming as her, Erestor, Erynion and Shoni made their way to the library. Emily didn't even know the ship _had_ a library. They found the room in no time, Shoni's girlish chatter on who was hot and who was not served its purpose as a grateful distraction from Emily's nervous disposition. She had felt their stares the whole time she had been at dinner, and not just the random elves, she could handle them because she didn't _know_ them. It was the others that bothered her. She could almost _feel_ Elladan's disapproving eyes and Arwen ridiculous beauty stinging her back. She could almost _hear_ Lindir's worried voice and Elrohir's stupid jokes trying to make her feel better. She didn't quite know what she felt, but it wasn't a nice feeling, it made her feel so shitty all she wanted to do was lie down with some chocolate and a horribly made chick flick. But, seeing as the elves liked to live in the middle ages, she was stuck with Shoni's words and Erynion's gentle smiles.

Stepping into the room Emily was instantly calmed by the smell of old books and the light scribbling of someone who sat at a desk in the far corner, she thought it might be Legolas, but half of the elves had blonde hair so she wouldn't take a gamble and call his name. They notoriously didn't get along, but, Emily was in her element and she could make an allowance for a particularly annoying elf. Emily grinned and looked around the circular room to the moulded shelves that lined the walls. There must have been tens, hundreds; even thousands of books around her and her finger itched to read them all. The only problem was they were probably in the odd language the elves spoke. Erestor smiled at her, taking her lightly by the elbow and guiding her to a comfy chair by the glowing fireplace at the back centre of the room. Tucking her legs underneath her she watched as Shoni sat on one side and Erynion on her other. The former took out a knitting set and began the rhythmic clicks and Erynion leaned his head in his hands as they awaited Erestor to seat himself and begin his little history lesson.

Erestor sat in front of them, and laid his hands on his lap before smiling at them all, clearing his throat, and beginning his tale. "The first period in the lives of the elves is called the Awakening of the Elves. The elves were awakened by Eru Ilúvatar, yes Emily that is Eru, or God," He clarified, seeing her confusion, "In the earliest tales we were sleeping, and, upon awakening by Cuiviénen perceived starlight; at this time of sun and moon there was not." Emily rested her back more comfortably in her chair, her eyes wide as she anticipated the oncoming story, "The first elves to awake became three pairs: Imin, meaning first, and his wife Iminyë, Tata, meaning second, and his wife Tatië, and Enel, meaning third and his wife Enelyë.

"They walked through the forests afterwards and found six, nine, and twelve pairs of elves. And each of the original pairs claimed them as their own. The three tribes stayed by the rivers and but left the bay of Cuiviénen to wander further as they created art and poetry and music. While travelling they happened to find eighteen pairs of dark haired tall elves whom Tata claimed as his own- these were the forefathers of the Noldor." Emily was completely entranced as Erestor's melodious voice kept her on the edge of her seat. If she had been paying attention to anything other than the story, she might have noticed that the person sat at a desk had stopped scribbling things down and that Shoni had put her knotting away in favour of hearing the tale at hand. "The elves now began to invent words and as they travelled on they found a further twenty-four elves all singing but without any language. Enel saw them and claimed them as _his_ own. These are the forefathers of the Lindar, or, now known as the Teleri.

"As they wandered they found no more elves and Imin's people became the smallest group- these are the predecessors of the Vanyar. Oromë, who is a Vala- think of them as the Greek God's" He explained to Emily, "Well, Oromë found the elves in Middle-Earth and brought news of their awakening back to Valinor. However it is said that some of the elves had already been captured by Melkor- an evil Vala, Emily- and been twisted both physically and emotionally into the horrible Orc's we know today.

"The Valar, upon hearing Oromë tell them of the elves summoned them to Valinor, wanting them to dwell there instead of leaving in the east of Middle Earth by Cuiviénen. They sent Oromë back and he took three elves with him on his journey back: Elwë, Ingwë and Finwë, they were to be the spokesmen for the elves as you would say. Upon returning, Elwë, Ingwë and Finwë convinced the elves to come back to Valinor with them, although some stayed and did not accept the summoning. These elves became known as the Avari, or the _Unwilling_. Those who did go became known as the Eldar or the People of the stars. Ingwë became the leader of the Vanyar, Elwë became the leader of the Teleri and Finwë became the leader of the Noldor.

"The next period in time is called the Sundering of the elves, to sunder means to split up." He explained and Emily barely registered the blonde elf who had been writing was now pulling up a chair to their little lesson and joining in, "On their journey to Aman, the Elves and Oromë came to the Misty Mountains. Some of the Teleri Elves feared the mountains and would not cross them. They turned back and made their homes in the valley of Anduin, they were led by Lenwë and became known as the Nandor.

"Oromë continued their journey over the Misty Mountains and through Erid Lindon- now called Eriador to the Elves at least- and into Beleriand. Upon entering Beleriand, Elwë, the leader of the Teleri went missing and the members of his tribe stayed behind to look for him. The Vanyar and the Noldor continued on their journey eventually stepping onto a floating island which the Vala Ulmo moved to Valinor.

"Years later Ulmo returned to Beleriand to look for the Teleri who were left behind while looking for their lost leader. Elwë had still not been found and a large number of Teleri took his brother, Olwë, for their new leader while being carried, or maybe a better term would be _ferried_ to Valinor by Ulmo. Some of the Teleri however stayed behind still looking for Elwë, while others went to the shores, called by Ossë a Maia of Ulmo. The elves named Cirdan as their leader and became known to others as the Falathrim, although all Teleri who stayed behind in Middle-Earth later became known as the Sindar. Cirdan was destined to sail on the last ship from Middle Earth and thus he has, he is leading our ship right now."

Silence followed his words and Emily sighed, biting her lip as she tried to stifle a yawn, not wanting to break the magic the story had woven. However her attempts were futile as Erestor's sharp eyes saw the yawn and he smiled lightly, "It seems my tales have tired you out, Lady Emily."

Emily gasped, trying to look surprised against her fatigue, "Of course not, continue, _please_," She asked, or rather begged. She had so many questions, and she wanted to know more! Erestor had been such a good story teller, she wanted to kick herself for being an idiot before and not allowing herself to _want_ to learn as he had called it.

Erestor laughed, "No, no, I shall continue tomorrow since you are so eager to learn." He stood up with a smile on his face, dusting down his robes of invisible bits of fluff.

"Why bother?" Came an indifferent voice, "She won't take it in, come tomorrow she'll have forgotten the lore of us."

Emily frowned and turned towards the blonde haired elf who had sat down, only to narrow her eyes when she perceived it to be Legolas. Next time, she'll trust her intuition. Or rather, next time she'll chew him out first chance she gets.

She glared at him, pushing her chair back roughly, "Goodnight," She said to the others in a much calmer voice than she felt, pointedly not looking at Legolas as she made her way angrily out of the room. Don't trip, don't trip, _don't_ trip, was all she could think. The only thing more embarrassing than being insulted by Legolas was tripping in front of Legolas. Luckily though, she made it out into the hallway without as much as a stumble.

Feeling the fatigue leave her, she walked down the hallway, picking an open door at random and walking inside to find it bare but for a magnificent grand piano. She stifled her cry of glee and ran over to it, sitting down on the plush stole and pushing up the lid to run her fingers across the keys. Looking around suspiciously before pressing her right thumb to the middle C note. Sighing in happiness she sat properly, placed her hands on the keys and began playing.

There weren't a lot of places Emily felt comfortable. Not normally a lot of people she felt like she fit in with. But when she played the piano, she felt at home. It didn't matter how many wrong notes or who didn't like it, _she_ liked it, and that was all that mattered. She was so caught up in the song that she didn't hear the door opening, nor did she hear the soft footfalls that accompanied it.

In fact, she didn't notice there was another person in the room until _after_ she had finished her six minute song, a grin on her face as she swivelled in the seat, ready to leave for bed with a light heart. That was, until she saw Legolas standing behind her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her intently. The grin slipped from her lips as she stood up cautiously, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Legolas' gaze never faltered.

"You play well," He remarked after a moment of silence, bringing both hands to tie together in front of him, "A few notes wrong here and there, but that can be expected."

Emily scoffed, poising herself for the run out the door if she needed to find someone who could punch him for her. Something told her that if she tried herself, _she'd_ be the one with a broken nose. "And why can that be 'expected'? Because I'm a woman or because I'm human?"

Legolas cocked an eyebrow at her, his expression however remained a cool neutral, the smile having gone from his lips, "No," He said conversationally, as if they didn't fight every day without fail, "Because you're young."

"And you're old, don't here me complaining." She barked back, mimicking his stance and pushing up her own eyebrow, "How long were you standing there for?" She asked, begging God for her nervousness not to show.

"Long enough," He replied evasively, taking a step forward, to which she immediately took a step back.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, "What's your problem?" She asked bluntly, watching him as he watched her.

"I assure you _Lady_ Emily, I have no problem," He replied, a smile threatening to make its way onto his face.

Emily grinned although her eyes remained cool, "Oh you have a problem, and I know it's me. I just want to know _why_."

Legolas let the smile break free as he broke eye contact with her, "Maybe you'll have to teach me that song," He replied and, without another word, spun on his heel and made for the door.

"Over my dead body!" Emily called out after him, to which he only chuckled.

"Be careful what you wish for," She thought she heard him say as he slipped out of the room. But obviously she heard wrong. He was an elf. Weren't they all supposed to be tree-hugging hippies? And opposed to, you know, death and all things trivial? Emily sighed, just when she thought she could take a step forward, his royal pain in the ass seemed to knock her back five.

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So guys what did you think ? Leave a review and lemme know (:

thank you so much for reading ! It means the world xx

And to my anonoymous reviewers who I shall FINALLY thank aha: three moons, ladyofrivendell and lady of the night !

And to Reader2 who quite rightfully chewed me out for my shameless act of uploading twice to get more reviews then graciouslly made up for it by comparing me the best writers in our business ! aha so thankyou very much, it honestly made me feel so so so so good !


	12. Chapter 11

History Revolvo Ipsum

Chapter 9: Beyond the realms of this world.

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

**Disclaimer: **Thank you for reading this. This story was written for purely entertainment purposes, no profit will be made from this. Any characters recognised belong to J. R. R. Tolkien, and should not assumed as my own. All other characters belong to my mind. I have merely combined the two and made a story with such liberties. Again, the world and characters belong to Tolkien except my own, thank you.

**A/N**: So you have permission to kill me. It's been ages, and I apologise for that! But, this is still the longest story I have so I'm going to stick to it. I thought you all might like to know that I haven't read the books, and I'm writing this all from research so I hope I'm doing the series justice. Thank you again for reading and reviewing, you guys honestly make my life! We're almost to Valinor! I think it may be the next chapter or the chapter after, anyways, if you're a returning passenger aboard the Turian, welcome back! And if you're new, climb aboard and grab hold of an elf, I here its going to be a bumpy ride (;

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Emily awoke the next day with a head full of questions and a smile upon her lips. She couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Going through her daily routine, the smile however slipped from her lips as the anxiety kicked in. What about Sarah? And her Dad? And Mom? And what of this place, Valinor? Or the elves in it? Would they like her? Would they not? It was as these irrational fears flitted from hippocampus to hippocampus that she unconsciously moved the rock from scrubbing her hands, to scrubbing her forearms, watching in mild satisfaction as lacerations appeared. It wasn't the pain she was after. No. No. She cared little for the pain. It was the continuation. The continuation and consistency that helped her. Moving the rock in a motion and counting in her head. _One, Two, Three, Four: Up, Down, Up, Down_. Finishing with her right arm she started on the left, counting as she went. Once done she smiled again, suppressing all the anxiety and bidding it to leave her for at least a day or two.

She was smiling as she dressed and sat on her bed contentedly, revelling in the feeling of a morning without stress. That was, until her calm was shattered with a knock at the door and a very identifiable Glorfindel's, "Emily? Are you awake?"

She sighed and wondered why he didn't call her 'Lady Emily' anymore, she made a mental note to ask Erestor about it later at his promised history or _lore_ lesson, as Emily liked to call it. Gathering all her courage, and, lets face it, embarrassment, she made her way to the door and pulled it open slowly, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. She said nothing as she watched Glorfindel's feet shift uncomfortably. "May I come in?" He asked quietly and Emily shrugged nonchalantly.

"I don't own the ship." She said, stepping away from the door and making her way to the bed, sitting down and shaking her head in a tired fashion. She didn't know why she was being so sullen; _she_ was the one who slapped him. Shouldn't _she_ have been the one to be all awkward and ashamed?

Glorfindel followed her in, opting to sit beside her on the bed rather than on either one of the two chairs beside it.

"Me first." She said with a sigh, scooting back from him so she could look up into his face, she smiled slightly and looked guiltily at his cheek. "I'm sorry." She said, "For lashing out as I did, it was stupid of me, and I shouldn't have done it." She bit the inside of her cheek as her fingers drummed out a tapping tune. One, Two, Three, Four. Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap.

Glorfindel watched her for a while, his eyes narrowing at her tapping fingers before finding them back up to her flushed face, "As am I," He said quietly, turning his gaze to seemingly admire the floor, "I should not have spoken as I did, it was thoughtless of me." He said and then to Emily's confusion he grinned, "I think it took that slap to the cheek for me to realise I was in the wrong." He said conversationally and Emily's smiled back shyly, feeling as though at least one of her problems had gone away. She smoothed out her dress, pulling out the invisible creases.

"Emily," Glorfindel began hesitantly, looking directly at her hands, his suspicious rising as well as his concern.

Emily, sensing where his gaze was focused, panicked for a moment before blurting out a question to try and distract him. "Why don't you call me 'lady' anymore?" She asked, her alarm giving way to curiosity as she tried to move her hand under the unmade bedcovers. Luckily for her the sleeves of her dress hid the damage on her arms; all she had to do was not draw attention to her hands. Harder than she might have thought.

Glorfindel smiled and looked around at her neat room, he frowned slightly and wondered where all of her messy tendencies had gone, "'My lady' is a term we use for those we do not know very well, and 'lady' is a sign of respect, I merely flit between those and your name, does it bother you?" He asked, switching his gaze back to hers.

Emily blinked and dropped her eyes; there was something unnerving about looking into his intense eyes. In fact, there was something about looking anyone in the eye for longer than a moment that bothered her slightly, "No, no," She said with a small smile, turning slightly so that she could look towards her bathroom and not at the elf before her, "It doesn't bother me, in fact, I like the first name basis thing, you can drop the 'lady' it isn't like I'm royalty or anything." She said firmly, flashing a glance at him quickly, "I'll have to _earn_ that title."

Glorfindel watched her calmly for a moment, an indecipherable expression on his face, before standing up and extended his hand, "Would you like to accompany me to breakfast, then?" He asked and to his relief she turned a grateful expression to him and took his hand and using it for support as she stood up.

_Her hands aren't smooth_, Glorfindel thought with confusion, they felt rough and almost scaled, like they had sores all over the palms. He lifted her hand for a closer inspection but just before he could get a good look she pulled her hand back from his grasp, a small smile on her face as she stepped forward quickly. "Should we get going?" She asked conversationally and Glorfindel had no choice but to nod and shoot her a smile, promising that he would get to the bottom of the state her hands were in.

Hours passed after breakfast and Emily found herself in the ships library, awaiting Erestor who promised to teach her once more. Scratching her hand as she waited she pondered the words Gandalf had told her the previous day. What in the hell had he meant by 'reach the borders of this world', and more importantly what the heck was a Helcaraxe? She sighed, rubbing her forehead in confusion, mentally filing those questions away for when Erestor showed up. He said he was only going to be five minutes, and she guessed it had already been about ten. He wasn't usually one to be late, _what was going on?_

In her agitation she took to scratching her hands while tapping her foot four times. All the elves on the ship had been acting a little strange since morning, she realised, biting her bottom lip. None of them could stop for more than two seconds, and even then it was only to offer her a smile and a rush of words in Elvish she obviously couldn't understand but later assumed to be an apology. They carried bundles of blankets and all seemed to be moving in one direction: The great dining room, in which she supposed, lay at the centre of the ship. Standing up she began to pace the room for no apparent reason, her steps equalling four in each round she took.

They were getting closer to Valinor. Emily dreaded to think how she was going to find her sister and get back home from this random island she'd never even heard of. What was she even doing? Sitting on a ship filled with elves like she was the queen of fucking England. Really, what did she even know about them? They could be lying to her for all she knew. And if they were? Where would she really go? She'd already tried going overboard and look where that had gotten her. With a sinking heart she become conscious of the fact that she was completely and utterly dependant on these elves; all alone and dependant on a race of beings who really didn't seem all there to her.

No. That was harsh. The elves, all of them (well, apart form Anneth but she didn't really count her as anything other than ice-queen) had been nothing but nice to her. Even when she was a complete asshole. They fished her out of the Atlantic for Pete's sake. To say they weren't all right in the head was an insult too far. Plus, she mused; it wasn't so bad was it? They were amazing cook's, and they'd keep her safe, right? Well, she hoped so anyway. Her knew found confidence in her companions didn't stop her irrational fear though, nor did it stop her itching at her scabs until they bled once more. Sighing, she sat down again, humming as she resumed her position waiting for Erestor, dimly aware of the fact that whatever happened in the next few hours was crucial. She wouldn't be able to come back from it.

Erestor bustled in a half hour later, startling Emily out of the light nap she had been taking after she got bored of her continual humming. The ridiculously cheerful elf clapped his hands before sitting down, rousing the tired girl from her dreams, earning him a disgusted look. "Oh come now, come now," He tsked, "I know I'm a bit late but we don't have much time today, I must secure some items down in the hold." He told her apologetically, and Emily raised an eyebrow at his words. It didn't seem like she was the only one to become attached to their little sessions even after one night. "Now, where did I leave it?" Emily rolled her eyes, forgetting her annoyance at him having interrupted her sleep, shifting as she did so to get in a more comfortable position as she listened to his melodic voice tell the knowledge of the elves.

They sat this way for many hours, occasionally another elf would hear them and add in their own stories, many of them made Emily laugh, a few made her sad, and some even angry. The tales they spun of peace and calm and some of the greed of man…They made her feel better, somewhat, their weird sense of togetherness. She hadn't heard of man ever doing it, maybe in millennia before, but not now. Definitely not now.

"Now, tell me Emily," Erestor said conversationally, his eyes intense and contradictory to his light tone, "What do you know of Beren and Luthien?"

Emily sat up straight in her chair as a distant memory tried to break the surface, her back rigid, her gaze unfocused as she tried to grasp the event. "I-I…"She stumbled over her words, feeling the recollection on the end of her tongue and the annoyance in her stomach at not being able to remember. "I don't remember…" She trailed off apologetically, her eyes flashing guiltily as she looked at Erestor's frown. She hoped she hadn't disappointed him. "Why? Was I suppo-" She broke off with a sharp intake of breath, her hand flying to base of her nose, feeling in some horror slick wetness. "Is my nose bleeding?" She whispered rhetorically, pulling her fingers away and seeing the bright red smear for herself.

Emily watched in confusion as Erestor jumped to his feet, calling to another elf in that weird language of theirs for what she assumed was a medic. He knelt at her feet, touching the sides of her head lightly and grasping her wrist in his hand, checking her pulse. "Hey- Hey, stop," She said with a faint smile, carefully not looking at the finger with blood on it, and _purposefully_ not focusing on steady drop of blood from her nose, ruining the dress she was wearing. "It's just a nose bleed, I don't know about you guys but us humans get 'em all the time," She said surprisingly more cheerful than she felt. It wasn't that she was particularly worried about the nosebleed; she supposed it was quite warm what with the heavy dress and kindling fire. No, what she was more worried about was whether or not she was going to pass out from seeing the blood. There was something nauseating from fresh blood, a scratch she could handle, but she had always possessed a aversion to nosebleeds: they freaked her out. Plus, whenever she acquired one it always came with a splitting headache which sent her off to sleep anyhow.

Erestor blinked and leaned back on his heals at her words, cocking his head to the side, giving her a small smile, "Forgive me, Lady Emily, we elves do not get sick, nor do we obtain bleeds from veins through our noses, and if we did it would be quite a worry." He gave a light chuckle, "I forget that humans are more susceptible to ailments of the body, it has been many Long Year's since I have had to think of the illnesses of men."

Emily, in remembrance of her father's training, tilted her head back to ease the flow of blood, "Don't sweat it," She said, feeling the blood sliding down her throat instead, "If an elf gets a nosebleed, I'll eb sure to ring the bells of Liechtenstein."

"I do not know of the Liechtenstein, you will have to tell me of it," He said and Emily almost laughed at the childish enthusiasm in his voice. "But first will you let Sanya have a look at your nose? Bleeding of nose is still worrying and I would like to make sure you are not in any danger."

Emily heaved a sigh, "Of course," She said tiredly, tilting her head forward to regard a dark haired elf with green eyes smiling down at her, this she assumed was Sanya. She was a pretty elf and a quick look to her sharply pointed ears assured Emily that this was no _peredhel_. Emily gave a grim smile as Sanya poked a prodded her face and nose, pulling up her eyelids to check her eyes and generally just fussing over a very tired and annoyed Emily who could already feel her impending headache pulling at the corners or her mind. After an eternity or two Sanya finally stopped her checks and muttered something to Erestor, and, with a small smile to Emily was gone and out of the room before the human girl could even think of blinking.

Sighing, Erestor passed a handkerchief to Emily which she greatly accepted, wetting it with her tongue before she scrubbed her nose and lips with vigour, "The dress is ruined," She murmured quietly, an apologetic smile on her face, "Anneth will shoot me."

That did the trick, Erestor grinned broadly at her words, bowing his head as a low chuckle escaped his mouth, "Indeed she will." He said and it took Emily a moment to realise the serious scholar had made a joke. She spluttered a laugh, clutching the bloodied handkerchief to her chest as she laughed. "Should I take you back to your room, now?" He asked after her laughter had subsided, holding out his arm for her to hold on to.

"Oh, yes," She murmured, stifling a yawn as she pocketed the handkerchief, sighing as she looked down at the ruined dress. "It is quite late." She took his arm gratefully, grimacing as her headache came in with full force.

"Right, well, off we go, we can continue with the Years Of The Trees tomorrow," Erestor said quietly, moving slowly as to allow the small girl to lean on his arm. Her nose bleed had worried him not just because a human bleeding spontaneously was a cause for concern, but because he was insanely sure that it hadn't been brought on by the heat. More so, he was fairly certain it had been brought on when she had tried to remember something. He sighed. He had much to discuss and very little time to do so before they passed through the realms.

As soon as Erestor dropped her off at her room, Emily barely had time to change into her pyjamas before sleep overcame her and she was forced to rest her head on her pillow lest she fall down instead. Her sleep, though deep, was troubled and images of beasts and dragons, and elves and of men alike swarmed her imaginings. It was no short of a miracle then, that when a insistent knocking woke her up, her headache was gone, her dreams evaporated and she felt truly alive.

She sat up slowly, spinning her feet in a childish way to get her blood flowing before hopping off the bed and padding to the door. She swung it open slowly, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from her eyes as she peered blearily out into the unseasonably busy hallway. A figure stood in the doorway, its tall frame blocking out most of the light so that only a slither fed into her room, supplied by a brightly shinning lamp nestled into a brass holder across from her door. Looking up with squinting eyes she frowned slightly, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Elladan?" She questioned softly, "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."

Emily got no reply, well, not that she expected one, but it would have been nice. Instead, he grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room, towing her along without saying so much as a hello. Emily frowned and tried to dig her heels into the ground to make him stop but he wasn't having any of that. Tightening his grip he swung her around and picked her up by the waist, putting her over his shoulder and startling many of the streams of elves who ran around them in an almost frenzied way. "Put me down!" Emily shouted angrily. She didn't deserve this! She had been good _all_ day. She didn't talk back. Or swear at the dinner table. And she had only taught Lindir _one_ bad word! What on earth was so far up his butt that he wouldn't even talk to her! "Elladan!" She tried again but still got no answer, in her confused state she evaluated it was easier for her if she stopped struggling at just went along with the latest get up. She had had enough time to figure out that if an elf wanted something, they were going to get it. Or try damn well hard in the process of achieving it.

Hearing her quieten down Elladan let out a small chuckle but said no more, rounding a corner so sharply Emily had to swerve to the left to keep her head from knocking against the wall. She made a noise at the back of her throat signalling her annoyance but kept quite otherwise as she sighed and just allowed her mind to wander as he took her to her destination. It seemed like his feet would never slow but eventually, they rounded one last corner and Elladan paused and abruptly put her down. Crossing his arms as she took a moment to push her hair out of her face, he grunted when she was done and pushed open the door, motioning with his head that she should enter. "But isn't this the dinner hall?" She asked confusedly, "We had dinner ages ago."

Elladan blinked at her and then sighed, using a large hand to non-to gently shove her through the door in front of him, moving into the room to stand behind her and close the door so that she wouldn't try and flee. Emily though, had no thoughts of flee running through her head, only ones of shock.

The tables that had previously been placed at intervals throughout the room were gone; the floor was bare apart from men and women alike who sat together in huddled groups, their eyes sparking with excitement. The candelabra's were down to a dull light, and soon they would all but be out, leaving the immense hall to only be illuminated by the five portholes dotted around the room, letting in faint moonlight. The room was quiet, the people who talked were speaking in whispers, and the atmosphere was so thick with anticipation that Emily had no time to feel embarrassed about her pink bunny pyjama's she had found stuffed in her overnight bag- in her 'just in case' section that is.

She looked around and tried to count the faces she saw but gave up after twenty, it seemed as though the whole ship was there. All sitting on the floor, waiting for _something_; but Emily was at a loss to what exactly that something was. Elladan made an impatient noise at the back of his throat and, getting tired of watching the human gape around the room, pushed her forward to make her start walking. When she did, he would occasionally push her, literally, in the right direction, creating a path to where she saw Erynion, Anneth and Shoni all sitting down with equally excited faces and talking in rushed words. At the last moment however, Elladan pushed her to the left and they veered towards the back of the room where she noticed Lindir sitting with the rest of the Scooby gang, as she liked to call them. Long ago had she decided it was annoying and time consuming to name them all individually so instead, she named them the Scooby gang, and, if need be, she would call them by their name. The Scooby gang incidentally consisted of Elrohir, his twin, Legolas, Arwen and Aragorn (when they bothered to turn up, Emily hadn't seen much of them on her extended journey, although they were there now), Lindir, Gandalf the whatsit and Erestor. She huffed. It really was quite a mouthful to even _think_ all of their names.

As soon as they reached the group, Elladan immediately left her side and went to sit beside Legolas without a look back in her direction. Repressing a sigh, Emily dropped herself down beside Lindir and propped her head up using her palm, using her elbow for gravity. "Why am I here?" She whispered quietly to Lindir who had kept unceremoniously quiet upon her arrival, "Scratch that, what is everyone doing here? And where the hell are the tables?"

Lindir smiled sadly at her, "You will find out." Was all he said and Emily only closed her mouth with an audible snap, glaring at him in her anger. Why wouldn't they tell her anything? It's not like she could just run out and tell the world! She had no where to go, and no one to tell, did they not trust her? She huffed, and all of this after she had just decided that maybe she _could_ trust them.

The main door banged open, cutting off her annoyed thoughts and causing her head to snap up and out of the nestled spot on her palm. There, stood an extremely regal looking elf, whom, coincidently had a little beard. The sight moved Emily so much that she had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from laughing. Did elves even get old? She wondered idly, watching as he held the door open for two elves with red cheeks as though they had been running. Shutting the door behind him, his robes of royal blue flowed around him in an almost majestic way, which captured Emily's attention as he stood still. There was something mesmerising in the way his grey eyes roamed over the hall calmly, seeming to land on each and every face at the same time as landing on none. When his gaze flitted to the back of the room, Emily tensed up when their eyes connected, an uncomfortable feeling seeping into her bones. But then he looked away and the connection was broken and just as quickly as it had come, the uncomfortable feeling seeped away and Emily was left feeling slightly hollow.

"Passengers aboard Turion, the time has come," He said, and though his tone was quite, his voice seemed to reverberate within her own head, pushing all of her useless thoughts away to make room for his important words. This must be Cirdan, she thought excitedly, proud of herself for having remembered something from Erestor's lesson, the captain of our ship. "We are in the final stages of our passage to Valinor." He continued, "Now, we must pass beyond the realms of this world and into the domain of the Valar." He stepped forward through the crowd, and elves shuffled aside to open up a pathway for him, shuffling back to close the gap when he had passed through.

It looked like he was coming to sit or stand with the Scooby gang and Emily blinked away the sudden feeling of un-comfort in annoyed haste. There was no reason to feel unsettled by this elf, even if he was as old as Erestor said. There was nothing to fear. _Except the unknown_, her preconscious filled in for her. "Peredhel, I would advise you clutch on to each other, this will be uncomfortable for you." He said, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Erynion reach for Anneth's hand as well as an elf's whose name she had forgotten. Nevertheless she dared not turn around to fully see what others were doing, she had eyes for only one elf, and right now, her blue orbs were riveted on Cirdan's grey ones. "Elves, you will be fine, but for comfort you could join hands, it is nice to enter the domain of the Valar as one."

Finally, he was before Emily and, with a flourish sat down beside her with a conspirator smile. "You, little Emily, must hold on ever so tightly." He said, and Emily frowned, what on earth was she supposed to hold on to? And more importantly, _why_ did she have to hold on? "Few humans make this journey, and even less survive the shift in worlds. For peredhel it is uncomfortable, but for you, it will be pain." Emily blanched at his words, letting them sink it. What was in store for her now? As if she hadn't already gone through enough, the elves were sporting crap about worlds and pain. Subconsciously she realised that the other elves had gone back to the rushed whispers and that Cirdan was having a private conversation with her.

"What are you saying?" She asked stupidly, her eyes wide as the last of the candelabra's lost its light, leaving pale moonlight to fill in patches of floor.

Cirdan only smiled sadly at her and patted her head with his left hand. She thawed at his touch and looked up at him curiously, only to find her gaze steady on one of the portholes. Emily turned her head in that direction but could see nothing but dark waves and an even darker sky; the two so similar in appearance it was hard to find where one ended and the other began. _What was he looking for?_

"We are close," She heard Gandalf murmur. Her heart started to beat faster, her palms became clammy and she found herself inexplicably scared. Maybe her preconscious was right. Fear of the unknown was always the worst kind.

A great hush came over the dinning hall and, for a moment, it seemed as though the whole party was holding its breath. Lindir reached for her hands and Emily looked at him questioningly, only to feel her heart speed up at the apologetic expression on his face. Cirdan put a hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her, nodding his head for god knows whatever reason. The pressure was mounting and Emily was having a hard time catching her breath. Her gut coiled in time to the beats of her heart and she felt sick. Something was going to happen. And whatever it was wasn't going to be pretty for her.

Her fingers, enclosed within Lindir's considerably larger hands, tapped out her usual beat for when she anxious. _1,2,3,4_. _Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap_. _1,2,3,4_. _Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap _

_1. _And then it happened. Afterwards, when asked what had taken place Emily would only gape and fumble for words, for it all became a blur to her.

The ship seemed to lurch upwards, as though it were a rollercoaster at its peak, her stomach rose and then, when she ship (after a few agonisingly slow moments) fell forwards once more it was lost within her lower region. Her head span and tears gathered at the corner of her eyes from the shock. Lindir squeezed her hands lightly.

Apart from the initial shock, it hadn't seemed so bad. Maybe Cirdan was- her desperate thoughts of reassurance where stopped short as a wave of something silver passed through the room towards her moving as though a line of pure energy. As soon as it sliced through her midsection she sucked in a breath, it felt like she had been punched. Her eyes watered all over again and she begged whatever God was out there that she wouldn't start crying. Whatever was going on, she was going to have to go through it tight lipped, she didn't want to disturb the peace that had settled around the other elves.

It was true, when she looked around bleary-eyed she saw the smiles on the elves faces and she wondered if that line of energy had been something pleasant for them and not, what it was for Emily. Pain. She sucked in a breath, feeling the pain lessen if she focused on the slow song that had started up around the room, it made her smile in a short spout of happiness. That was, until she save another wave of that silver light slicing towards her again. Unfortunately with the second wave it felt as though she had been kicked twice with a steel-toed boot. Her breathing hitched and gripped on to Lindir's hands so tightly she was sure her knuckles were bone white in their vice like hold. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and this time it took her a little longer to focus on the song to keep her from crying. How long was this torture supposed to go on for?

Three waves later and she was doubled over in pain, her eyes pressed shut. She could no longer hear the beautiful song the elves had been singing, all her ears picked up on was the sound of blood rushing around her body. She couldn't move. Her head lay in Lindir's lap and for the life of her she could care less if this went against the elves sodding rules and regulations of etiquette. She could feel Cirdan's hand still resting on her shoulder, rubbing circles in what she supposed was a soothing way. It wasn't.

All she wanted was to be left alone in a room to die. Because death was all she could think of as an appropriate escape. It felt like her stomach was haemorrhaging and, when another wave hit her, she bit down harder on her lip, feeling the bitter taste of blood as she broke the skin. She was breathing heavily, and, in a fit to stop the pain rolled over on to her back, staring up at Lindir through her tears. She wasn't even mad at him, if she was him; she wouldn't have told her what was coming either. Just then, another wave passed through her and she felt rather than heard her ears pop and something warm gush out. Her ears were bleeding. And, with the next two she felt her nose start to bleed once again. By this time she had lost all feeling in her palms, and she was only mildly aware of the fact that her fingers had probably broken the skin. Lindir continued to hold her hands, rocking her slightly. She couldn't see his face, but his lips were murmuring and she hoped it was a prayer for her as she couldn't even think her name let alone a reprieve from pain. The next four waves were agony, and Emily barely manages to keep conscious.

It was after the thirteenth wave, and Emily lay whimpering quietly, her head pounding so vigorously that she couldn't even focus on the pain within her body. She could feel other palms on her now, her shoulders, face, and neck. The hands of those around her seemed to find any piece of flesh they could, offering her comfort. Someone was wiping her ears and nose in succession and Emily thought idly whether or not they were using a clean handkerchief to do so.

She wondered whether she was going to die now. Or whether her sister was wrong that she should stay. She wondered a lot of things that really had no place to be wondering thoughts, and then, as if out of no where there came a voice. She didn't know whose voice it was, nor did she particularly care. All she cared about was what the voice said. "One more," That was it. As scary voices inside your head go, it wasn't that bad. Truthfully she was expecting a prophecy of death, or, if she allowed herself to be ridiculous maybe a prophecy of the special powers she was to receive. So, when she got the prophecy of one more wave, she was both relieved the pain would stop and annoyed that she wasn't going to receive any spidey-powers.

And stop it did. The last wave, the fourteenth –it was surprising how she had managed to keep track of them through her supposed pain- was the largest, and, in her opinion the prettiest. When she managed to pry her eyes open, instead of seeing a straight silver energy wave, this one was almost, multi-coloured, and, if it wasn't about to cause her inexplicable pain, she would have smiled- it really was pretty. However, it didn't cause her inexplicable pain. When the wave came into contact with her skin, time seemed to slow down, her body didn't hurt anymore and she felt peaceful. Maybe she was dead. Maybe she deserved it. Except, if she was dead, she wouldn't feel Cirdan's hand still on her shoulder right? And, if she was dead, she wouldn't be able to hear the song of the elves suddenly spring up around her- although it could be mistaken for the song of angels, so really, until someone slapped her, she wouldn't know. When they would tell her later, of how brave she had been, they would leave out the fact that her eyes had been black the whole time.

Emily sighed, breathing in deeply once, twice, and then a third time. Whatever life force had kept her awake through her ordeal was now gone, and in its wake she felt incredibly tired. Her eyes fluttered close, and this time, now from pain, her hands loosened their grip on Lindir's and her head lolled to the side, not in death, but in the serene peace that comes with a well deserved sleep.

And sleep she did.

The first thing Emily was aware of upon waking up was her hand enclosed in someone else's. For some odd reason, this act bothered her more than it should have, and she slid her hand to her side before opening her eyes to a dim light. She assumed she was in her bed, and, by the feel of it someone had changed her pyjamas to the soft material of what she assumed to be another elf's nightgown. Squinting around the room she noticed Elrohir sitting at her side, his hands resting on the edge of her bed and she sighed, smiling sadly at him. "Did I pass the test?" She asked quietly, shifting so that she was sitting up. Strangely enough she wasn't in any pain, the only thing she felt was the slight ache in her joints as though she had been lying in one position for an extended period of time.

Elrohir pursed his lips, the only serious expression she had seen on his face since they had set sail, he didn't say anything and that was the only answer Emily needed. "I can't go back now, can I?" She asked, her eyes neither angry nor sad, just…calm. "Whatever we went through, that-that vortex or wormhole or-something. I can't go back. Not unless I'm with you guys that is." _And something tells me you won't ever be going back_, she tacked on in her mind. Elrohir was silent as he rubbed a hand down his weary face and Emily, not for the first time, was reminded of how _old_ he really was. She wasn't very far with her and Erestor's lessons, but, from what she could gather, the elves were old. And not just old, they were _ancient_ and by ancient she meant 'first-beings-on-earth' ancient.

"Did Aragorn feel what I felt?" She asked suddenly, putting two and two together. From what she could remember, the elves had been fine. The peredhel a little worse off and then Emily- well, she was alright now, but she couldn't help the shudder that ran through her when she recalled the pain. "It's worse for humans, right? Because elves are more divine, or more equipped or some crap like that."

"I debt must be paid, Emily. You are no saviour of your people, you have fought no battles, for you to come here, and to the Undying Lands…Something must be paid. An eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth. _A life for a life_, Emily." Elrohir said and stood up suddenly as though he were to leave and then thought better of it, sitting down on the edge of her bed as he watched her. "He was…better." He said and his words sounded uncertain to Emily's ears. "Aragorn has already…basked in the light of the Valar so to say, and it was not that hard for him or Arwen to re-enter their domain."A pause, "One silver beam for every Valar." He smiled sadly at her, losing his serious expression for the moment. "You should not have brought them." He said softly and Emily blanched at his words.

"Me?" She squeaked in confusion, her chest tightening in the familiar way that it does when one is accused of a wrong doing. "I didn't do a thing! She could have said no! All I did was grab onto her, I, for one, thought she was going to _die_." Emily glared at him now, huffing as she folded her arms across her chest. Whatever mess they were in certainly wasn't _her_ fault.

Elrohir rolled his eyes, "Calm down you little cretin, I'm not blaming you, I'm just saying you shouldn't have brought them. The Valar it seems, aren't too bothered with our extra passengers, although it does complicate things." He said with a thoughtful gaze and he shifted his head to the side to regard her. "There is no going back, no." He said, answering her earlier question, "Looks like you're stuck with me."

Emily in turn, scoffed and rolled her eyes, but "God help me," was all she muttered. Elrohir chuckled, sliding off of her bed, his bad mood long forgotten.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, and Emily was about to lie and say she wasn't when he stomach interrupted her, its incessant grumbling causing a blush to stain her cheeks. "I'll take that as a yes then," He said with a smirk, his left eyebrow raised as she teased her, "Go get washed then, you smell a little, and I will come and escort you in half an hour." He barely had time to run from the room as an outraged Emily chucked a pillow at his retreating frame.

She laughed despite herself as the door closed behind him, her pillow thudding against the doorframe and sliding down to the floor with a low thump. She felt peculiarly light, as though her limbs were as air, and, when she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she was sure she they seemed to float in midair for a second or two before gravity took hold and fastened her feet to the floor. She shook her head, blinking a few times to recover her bearings. Something was _definitely_ not right.

Pressing her feet onto the wood floor, she stood up with shaking legs, suddenly feeling as through her limbs weren't solid but instead made of jelly. She tried to step forward, and found instead that her leg swung forward as though it were a piece of paper caught in the wind. She panicked for a second before her foot found the floor again, breathing a sigh of relief when she regained her stability. Frowning slightly, she tried the same thing with her left leg, feeling it swing unnaturally in front of her before being brought down to the wooden floor with a soft thud.

It took her a while, but she finally walked to her little bathroom, standing in front of the sink as she tried to make her arm swing upward. Instead of doing it at a normal pace however, it seemed to slow, and it took her a painstakingly slow moment to reach for her rock, grasp it tightly before bringing it to her other hand to start her morning routine, soft light filtering through her porthole window. Half an hour later and she was dressed, exhausted, and sitting upon her bed. It seemed that moving at a slower pace tired her out.

As she caught her breath, there came a knock at the door, and she gave a weary sigh, her shoulders drooping in the effort it took her to raise her head. It didn't even feel like she was in control of her body anymore, more like part of her body had been left behind she passed through the realms. She understood it now, passing beyond the worlds borders. Wherever this 'Valinor' place was, it wasn't on earth. Or rather, it was on a plain above earth. She stopped her train of thought with an angry grunt; all this realm business was hurting the scientist inside her head. There came another knock at the door and Emily sighed again. If she kept it up she'd have no more air to sigh _with_.

"Come in," She said tiredly, slowly raising her hand to rub her forehead.

She heard the door open quietly and then the soft, calm, footfalls she had come to associate to Elrohir, unlike his brother whose footsteps were as quiet but more… _angry_. The feet stopped before her, and her eyes took in his shoes. They weren't pointed like Christmas elf shoes, so at least she had _something_ to be thankful for. But then shoes were gone and replaced instead, with a concerned kneeling elf. "Is something wrong, Emily?" He asked, resting his hands upon his legs as he stooped before her.

Emily shook her head, or at least she tried to, but it just ended up looking like she was even odder than she already felt. "Something's wrong…" She murmured, swinging her feet to demonstrate her body's peculiarity to Elrohir.

The elf in turn furrowed his brows in confusion to her leg movements, "I cannot see what the matter is," He said quietly and Emily blinked a couple of times to get through the sudden fog in her mind.

"L-Look," She said, and was it only her that thought her voice was slower too? She swung her arm up, down and then around, or at least that's what she told it to do, it just took her arm a while to catch up to its commands. "It goes slower than normal, I tell my body to do something and it does it twenty seconds later!" She exclaimed and no, no, her voice had definitely slowed down. "See! Now my voice is doing it!"

Elrohir looked at her a moment or two in utter bewilderment as he watched her hover her hands in front of her face as though she had never seen them before. _She looks drunk_, he thought in some amusement before rocking back on his heels and standing up. "I will fetch Cirdan," He said, giving her a reassuring smile, "Perhaps he knows what ails you." And ailment there was, because to Elrohir, Emily was moving at a perfectly normal pace, and her limbs seemed to do her ever wish and command when she commanded them. _Obviously_, Emily didn't think, or couldn't _see_ the same results.

He was gone all of five minutes and then he was bustling in with the regal looking elf with the beard Emily found so intriguing. _Ah, Cirdan_, she thought, _hasn't he ever heard of a razor?_

She laughed quietly at her own joke before pulling a serious face when the old elf stood before her, raising her eyes she looked into his for a grand total of about two seconds before she chickened out and looked back to the floor. _Hey, wait a minute_, she thought in some alarm, _isn't he the captain? Who the hell is sailing the ship!_

Cirdan knelt down before her sitting body, and Emily had the insane her to make him stand up, this particular elf should not have had to bow to anyone. He had a smile on his face, to which Emily shyly returned- of course though, at her slower pace. The older elf chuckled suddenly, causing Emily and Elrohir to frown, although the former completed her task much slower than the latter did- or so she seemed to think. Cirdan stood up once more and grinned down at Emily before shifting his attention to Elrohir.

"I have heard of this," He said in an amused tone, "Only twice or thrice has it happened."

Emily nodded as though she knew exactly what he were talking about and could relate to it. Cirdan looked down at her swaying body, it seemed as though she were trying to gauge how much her limbs would move until they fell off. "The time in Arda is faster than the time in the Valar's Domain." He explained, gesturing down to Emily who wasn't paying either elf the slightest bit of attention, "We elves are more built to endure the shift in worlds but humans are more susceptible." At Elrohir's blank look the older elf laughed once more, catching Emily's attention causing her to start laughing with him. "Her mind has not caught up with her body. She believes she is moving slowly because her mind is still running at Arda's pace. As for the slightly intoxicated state, well, I think we can attribute that to the shift in worlds as well." He chuckled and reached a hand down to grasp the girl by her upper arm, watching in amusement as she looked about her in confusion.

"Up you get," He murmured quietly, hauling Emily to her feet watching with unmasked amusement.

Emily just giggled, stumbling on her feet, looking up at Elrohir with a stupidly happy expression. "Food glorious food," She sung quietly, dissolving into fits of giggles, leaning on Cirdan as he laughed with her, towing her towards the hallway, Elrohir hot on his heels.

It took them double the time it should have to reach the dining room, and more so to get the slightly struggling Emily to her seat next to Lindir. Elrohir sat beside her and gently clasped her hands in his own, preventing her from poking Lindir as she had been. Everyone was present at the table, and Emily nodded to each and every one of them, even smiling when she got to Elladan, winking at him before she moved on to the next person.

"Is she intoxicated?" Erestor asked with wide eyes, staring accusingly at Elrohir and Lindir.

Elrohir, in turn looked outraged that he had been so unfairly accused and released Emily's hands unthinkingly, launching into a lengthily paragraph on how he had grown up and forgotten his teasing ways. To which Arwen jumped in to rebuff his statement and proceeded to tell the whole table (and half the listening dining hall) just how much he _hadn't_ changed.

"_If I may cut in_," Elladan said loudly, interrupting a further outraged Elrohir, "I think I will take the girl out for some fresh air," He sad nonchalantly, as though he offered to do nice things for Emily on a daily basis, "It would do her current state some good."

So, without waiting for an answer he stood up, walked around the table, grasped Emily's forearm and hauled her up faster than she could sing 'she'll be coming round the mountain' which, it pretty fast.

Elladan set off at a brisk pace, pulling Emily along behind him without much care as to whether she was walking or generally being dragged on her toes. Soon enough they were outside, and, true to his prophecy, the cool air radiating from the sea seemed to help Emily. He pulled them over to the side of the ship, putting Emily's hands on the rope railing for her to support herself.

She sucked in a breath, her heart slowing to a normal pace and her head clearing, "Th-Thankyou," She said quietly, her eyes sharpening and loosing their dull state. "I don't know what…what was wrong with me."

Elladan shrugged, opting to say nothing and Emily wasn't half surprised. They stood in silence for a while, and Emily took her hands from the railing to itch at her clothed arms in a nervous fashion. "You know I'm not bad company," She said quietly, turning her head to stare at him, though he looked resolutely out to sea, "I don't often know what the latest robotic pop stars are composing, or how fashionable the twenty-thirties were, but-" She paused, suddenly failing for words, biting her bottom lip instead, turning her head back to watch the ocean as he was.

He didn't reply, and Emily's faced flushed with embarrassment. Maybe she had made a mistake in speaking. He was after all a prince, her superior as Anneth would put it. Maybe you weren't supposed to call prince's up on their harshness. Emily had never been one to dwell on social faux pas, but suddenly her palms began to sweat and her eyes pricked with tears as she heaved unsteady breaths.

Elladan glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watching her discomfort with a small form of detachment, his mouth a hard line though it softened the longer he watched her. "You should go back inside," He said, his voice soft, "The air has done good for you, and we shall be passing through the Helcaraxe soon." He paused and turned his head to look at her fully, offering the smallest of smiles, "We elves fair well in the cold, but even I shall wear two more layers."

Emily shyly returned the smile, her eyes lighting up. Progress. _Maybe this is what hope feels like_, she thought suddenly, her hands ceasing their nervous motions. _Maybe I won't be _so _friendless when we get to Valinor_.


End file.
